There is only one
by Mythrandiel
Summary: When Vilya, Elrond's ring of power, is stolen, the only way to stop the evil that threatens them, is to retrieve it. Not a Mary-Sue. Elrohir/OC. EPIC! Battles, espionage, heartache and angst ahead! Chapter 22 up!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Hey guys! Just to say that I own nothing except Galwyn. Everything else is courtesy of Tolkien. Ok, well, when I say I own nothing except Galwyn, that is a lie, because I do own loads of random crap that I generously call my 'possessions', but you get the picture. 

A note on the setting: This is set some time before the whole business with a certain ring. Don't flame me if anything I use in incorrect, because being a busy student, I don't always have time to check every last detail. But if you nicely informed me of mistakes, then that would be nice! 

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**Prologue:**

The forest was alive with noise and flickering light from many torches. Foul voices called to one another through the trees and dark shapes could be seen moving through the patches of light and shadow.

Some distance ahead of the crowd of vile creatures two more forms were just visible as they fled through the dense vegetation. One was taller, his dark hair, long and smooth, flowing out behind him as he ran, both arms cradling a small bundle. The figure beside him was slightly shorter, and her bright green eyes were wide with fear as she sped through the forest, her golden hair streaming behind her like a standard. Behind them, the orc-band was drawing closer, their night vision was much better and they could move more easily through the dark forest. The couple were weary and stumbled as they ran, gradually slowing to a halt. Escape now seemed like a vain hope and they thought quickly. They searched the area they had stopped in and finding a suitable place, and hastily stowed the bundle, which was now moving slightly, laying it gently down. The woman, silent tears coursing down her face, bent and arranged the blankets of the bundle more closely around its contents before rearranging the vegetation around it. The taller figure, his dark hair now pushed behind his pointed ears, took her hand and gently led her away, once more breaking out into a run. 

The orc-band caught them almost half a mile further into the forest and the screams of both could be heard piercing the darkness of the forest, and every creature that heard it shivered in fear and pity. When dawn broke the next day there was no evidence of the events of the night before, but the uneasiness remained, hanging in the air like a mist.

Passing through the forest of Fangorn that day was a tall, wiry figure cloaked in brown. As he strolled leisurely through the trees he noted there was a lingering aura of unease in the air. But of its source, he could see nothing. He put the thought to the back of his mind and continued his journey. A light rain began to fall, refreshing and cool, cleansing the forest of its negative feeling. The brown figure listened to the sound of the rain dripping through the thick layers of leaves and suddenly became aware of another sound. It was unmistakable, but he still could not believe his ears: it was the last thing he expected to hear. He followed the sound, hurrying to its source, the rain falling gently all around him, barely dampening his cloak. When he found the origin of the sound he looked down in astonishment, now unable to believe his eyes or his ears, but then he bent down, pushed aside the vegetation and picked up the bundle, holding it under his cloak to keep it dry. 

When he reached his small log house near the northern border of Fangorn, Radagast went in and shut the door behind him. He made a gesture at the fireplace and muttered a few words under his breath, and suddenly a fire sprang up among the wood piled there. Soon the room was filled with warmth and a warm golden light. Taking the bundle gently from under his cloak he laid it carefully on a wooden table and unwrapped it from its damp blanket. 

The baby girl looked at the man carefully from through thickly lashed bright violet eyes. Although only a few months old, the baby already had a thick layer of tufted jet-black hair. The baby blinked and gurgled, waving her arms and legs in the air, her gaze never leaving Radagast's face. Radagast thought quickly: the baby had clearly been abandoned, for what reason he did not know, but he recalled immediately the dark feeling that had lain on the forest that morning. Fate had brought him to find this baby, and now he must take care of it. He leant over and picked up the baby, searching for some clue to its identity. There was nothing that he could see except a small pendant around the baby's neck. He took it gently and examined it. It was a simple silver star-shape with a white jewel that looked like opal in it. But it lent him no clue, and he held the baby out in front of him, looking deep into the blinking violet eyes before him.

"I will call you Galwyn; it is a good Westron name, for you are certainly not an elfling are you?" He glanced at the baby's ears, which were rounded like his; she was obviously mortal. The baby's eyes glinted as though she agreed with him and recommenced her gurgling in a happy manner, unaware of the events that had led her to where she was now.

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A/N: So what do you think? Yay or nay? 


	2. Concerning the discovery

**13 years later…**

"Radagast? I have returned. I found the things you asked for…Radagast?" The soft melodious voice tailed off in question, and a figure stood in the doorway, closing the door softly behind her. She took off her boots and slid her feet into soft, velvety slippers before placing the basket she was carrying on the table in the middle of the room and walking through into the next room. Radagast was seated in front of the fireplace engrossed in a small, battered book. He did not notice her come in and it was only after she had lightly cleared her throat that he looked up, his face immediately breaking into a smile.

"Galwyn, my dear, I didn't notice you come in. I was rather involved in this book. Did you find the things I asked for?"

"Yes, I found most of the herbs nearby, but some of them were a little further away. But I think I remembered them all." She looked at him triumphantly and he laughed gently,

"Well done, I knew you would." He laid his book down on a small nearby table and got up, moving into the room Galwyn had just come through and bent to examine the contents of her basket.

"What are you going to do with them?" He turned to face her and smiled again,

"Many things. Never you mind though." He made as if to return to his room, but Galwyn moved to bar his path. She balled up her fists and stamped her foot.

"Its not fair, Radagast. You promised me when I was little that when I was older you would teach me what you know. I'm 13 now, isn't that old enough?" Radagast looked thoughtfully down at the young girl before him. Her face was flushed and her violet eyes were flashing. Her long, dead straight, jet-black hair hung in a river down her back, shining in the light of the fire. Maybe the time had come for her to be taught. He put a calming hand on her shoulder and put the herbs back on the table.

"Galwyn, it occurs to me that perhaps it is time you started to learn. But you must understand that it is not something you can undertake lightly. You must put your entire heart and soul into it, and it will certainly not be easy." He looked at her expectantly and she replied in an indignant tone,

"Radagast! When have you ever known me to undertake a task half-heartedly?" He laughed; that certainly was true. 

 "Well, we will begin tomorrow. There are some tasks I must do tonight." He picked up the basket and went into his room.

That night Galwyn tossed and turned in her bed too excited to sleep. She wondered what the next day would hold. She had longed for the day when Radagast would teach her his arts; he was a wizard, one of the ancient Istari, and his skills lay with the birds and the beasts, with which he could communicate freely. She knew that he was certainly not the most powerful member of the White Council, but he was wise and learned in all the ancient lore. Thoughts of what was to come filled her mind but eventually, sleep overcame her and she awoke the next morning with the sunlight streaming through her window onto her face. She dressed quickly and went through to the main room where they ate their meals together which she usually prepared. But this morning, the food was already on the table; Radagast had obviously been up before her but he was not in sight. She ate her fill then went outside, pulling the door gently shut; it had no lock, there was no need for one. Radagast was waiting for her by the stream that ran close to the little house. Galwyn ran eagerly towards him and he turned as he heard her light footfalls on the dewy grass. 

"Are you ready for your first lesson?" She nodded eagerly, and he sat down on a large rock on the bank of the stream, gesturing for her to do the same. He had with him the basket of herbs that Galwyn had collected the previous day. She was eager to learn and a good student and listened attentively as Radagast explained to her the powers and history of each herb. When they had finished he tested her and to his surprise she answered every question right. They walked through the woods and Radagast pointed out more plants, flowers and herbs and told her about them and her attention did not lapse once. When they returned to the house he gave her a book on herb lore to study while he himself carried out some tasks. When Galwyn retired to bed that night her mind was alive with all that she had learnt, still fresh in her memory. 

That year passed quickly for Galwyn; her lessons had begun in the spring and now winter was falling. But Fangorn remained green and lush, most of the trees were evergreen and of types unseen anywhere else but there. 

Even after almost a year of teaching, Galwyn was still a long way from knowing all that Radagast did, but she had not forgotten anything he had taught her and proved an excellent apprentice when he had involved her in his own tasks. She had lost track of the time that had passed and was surprised to realise that it was almost her fourteenth birthday. She rose as usual that morning ready for her lesson, but to her surprise and excitement, Radagast had said:

"Galwyn, my dear, you have now reached such a stage in which there is something important I must teach you," Her eyes had widened in excitement but he had held up a hand and silenced the reaction he knew she would give. "Let me continue. I cannot teach you to communicate with birds and beasts as I can, but it is important that you are able to enter a state of mind that will allow them to trust you. It is similar to a meditative state, and will enable you to be at one with your fellow creatures, and gives you protection from the environment and dangerous creatures as they have." He smiled at Galwyn's beaming expression, but again gave a warning gesture. "Galwyn, I cannot guarantee that you will be successful, it is not a skill everybody has. One must have a suitably clear conscience and the ability to relax the mind almost completely and free it of all other thought." Galwyn nodded thoughtfully. She had never tried it before, but she was not a loud person by nature, except when her temper was aroused, and she felt quite sure she would be able to do it. _In fact,_ something told her she would be able to do it very well, but she had no idea where the thought came from. She pushed her hair behind her ears, a habit she had, and set her chin up. 

"I am ready to try." Radagast went slowly through the thought processes with her, and explained how to clear the mind of all other thoughts. After having many short attempts throughout the morning, he decided she try properly. 

"To be at one with, say, a pony, one must enter the state of mind and then try to commune with the pony, only then can you understand them and reach the highest level of communication that is possible for you as an individual. But don't expect too much, it is a rare gift." A small brown squirrel ran into view and stopped nearby to them. "There, the squirrel. Try the thought process and project your goodwill to it and it should come closer." Galwyn closed her eyes and concentrated on clearing her mind, and gradually felt the peace and tranquillity of the meditative state overcoming her mind, and the liberation of thought it gave her. She pictured the squirrel, centring it in her mind, imagining it, being it. She held the thought for several minutes, not registering the sharp intake of breath she had elicited from the wizard, before breaking the thought and looking to see where the squirrel was, and sure enough, it had come within a few feet of her. She looked up at Radagast, smiling, but her expression quickly changed to one of confusion as she saw the colour had drained from his face and the shocked expression he was wearing.

"What? What is it? Radagast?" The wizard appeared to come abruptly to his senses and he looked at her shrewdly as if trying to recall something from a distant memory. She knew from his expression that he was thinking, it was a face he wore often and one she was wholly familiar with. He nodded to himself and looked at her again.

"Galwyn, I want you to try again, but this time, think of…that rabbit over there." She followed his gaze to see the animal before carrying out the same process again. While she was still deep in the state, she heard Radagast's voice softly intruding on her thoughts. 

"Do not drop your concentration, but open your eyes." She obeyed, then her immediate reaction was to cry out in shock, breaking her hold on her concentration.

"Radagast! Did you see that? I was…I was…a rabbit!" He nodded thoughtfully, 

"Yes, yes I did notice. And I cannot understand it. All you did was as I instructed you?"

"Yes, of course, I don't know anything you haven't told me." Galwyn's mind was reeling; when she had opened her eyes she had looked down at her hands, only to realise, she didn't have any hands! And it wasn't her body, but that of the rabbit she had been concentrating on. She found she was trembling from shock, fear, yet also from a sort of exhilaration. She came out of her thoughts to find the wizard was looking at her expectantly.

"I think it is time we made a journey to Lòrien. I must consult with the Lord and Lady of the wood, for they are wise and may be able to explain. I suspect Master Elrond may have more to say on the matter, but it is too far for you to travel to Rivendell, but we must set out at once. Go into the house Galwyn, and gather all your possessions together while I saddle the horses. Do not try anything like that again until we have consulted with the Lord and Lady, it could be dangerous. Go now." Something in his tone unsettled Galwyn, obviously what she had just done was not an everyday occurrence, and it was not even something she had ever seen Radagast do. She felt slightly afraid at the prospect of going to Lòrien to meet Galadriel and Celeborn; she knew about them of course, but she had never even seen another person, other than Radagast, let alone an elf. But the prospect was also exciting and she felt herself alive with anticipation as she packed all her possessions together into a saddlebag.


	3. Concerning the arrival in Lorien

A/N: Disclaimer in first chapter applies to all chapters that follow.

Galadriel felt their approach when they were still a day away. She sent several elves out to watch the borders with instructions to bring them to her immediately, for they would be weary and in need of rest, but she had to first speak with Radagast. He had not visited Lòrien for many years, and she had much news to share with him, especially that which had come from the Grey wizard, Gandalf. Radagast was a familiar figure to her, and one she was immensely fond of, but she could not perceive as clearly the nature of his companion, which puzzled her slightly. There was something clouded around her, an uncertainty of identity. But she knew that all would be explained on their arrival and sent orders for things to be prepared in advance of their impending arrival.

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Looking out ahead of them, Galwyn could see the woods of Lòrien growing ever closer, their reaches extending as far as her keen eye could see, covering the horizon. She felt her throat tighten and she coughed nervously. Her nerves were soon eliminated when she beheld the beauty of the forest. The spring was far enough on for blossom to have come to the trees and the woods were alive with colour. She could see many familiar trees, but also many she could not name. She was filled with wonder at the sheer lushness and perfection of the forest, it was filled with light and had none of the shadows of Fangorn, but as she thought of her home, she felt a pang of sadness. But she bit her lip and carried on, following Radagast, urging her horse on to the nearby end of their journey. Finally they reached the edge of the forest and no sooner had they ridden a few metres under the canopy than a figure dropped out of a tree to their left, landing gracefully on his feet. Galwyn gasped in both surprise and wonder. It was an elf! He stood tall, and fair, with long, silky blond hair and piercing green eyes. Over his back was a quiver of arrows and he held a long bow in his hand. His gaze passed briefly over her before he turned to Radagast and spoke something in a tongue she did not understand.

_"Creoso mellonaminea, amin naa Llambrin en'Lòrien. I'Arwen tulte llie. Lye anta asc. Amin nauva llie cora, khila amin."_ Welcome my friends, I am Llambrin of Lòrien. The Lady has sent for you. We need to make haste. I will be your guide, follow me. 

_"Mae govannen. Lye khiluva lle."_ Well met. We will follow you.   Radagast replied in the same tongue. They walked on in silence for a while, leading the horses, and Galwyn felt distinctly humble beside Llambrin. Suddenly he turned to her and smiled,

_"Mani naa esse en lle, nessaer?"_ What is your name, young one? Galwyn returned his smile, but looked at him quizzically.

_"Re n'rangwa. Lle anta magh i'nuumenyaquena."_ She does not understand. You need to use the Western speech. Llambrin nodded, and repeated his question to Galwyn, lapsing slightly haltingly into the tongue she understood.

"I am Galwyn of Fangorn. Who are you?" she answered haughtily, instantly taking a liking to the elf walking beside her, but disliking the insignificance she felt beside him.

"My name is Llambrin of Lòrien." Galwyn looked the elf straight in the eye and was surprised to see an immense age displayed there, although he looked only around 20 years old.

"How old are you?" She asked shyly. Llambrin looked at her with an amused look in his eyes. He thought for a moment and then asked Radagast something in the tongue he had used before. 

_"Mani naa minque randa ar ratse mii nuumenyaquena?"_ What is 1112 years in the Western speech? Radagast replied immediately in the tongue she understood, 

"One thousand, one hundred and twelve years old." He laughed at the shocked expression on Galwyn's face before continuing, _"Lle naa nessa ten'edhil, uma?"_ You are young for an elf, yes? He felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to see Galwyn looking at him with an angry expression on her face.

"It's not fair to keep talking in that funny language I don't understand!" Radagast wanted to laugh but decided against it. He smiled gently, before replying, 

"Galwyn, you must understand that here in Lòrien they very rarely use anything except their own tongue, and they are not as familiar with it as strangers such as ourselves might hope. So we must communicate in whatever way possible. Later, I will teach you the elven tongues, alright?" Galwyn shrugged sulkily, and Radagast smiled inwardly. She was so much still a child though she tried so hard not to be. The rest of their slow, leisurely journey beneath the trees passed in a happy manner, Galwyn chatted continuously with Llambrin, not really knowing how much or how little he understood, but he appeared to know what she was talking about, occasionally interjecting with a question. When her attention had been caught by a little flower-ringed pool just off their path, Llambrin turned to Radagast.

_"Re quena sai, lle tittamellon!"_ She talks a lot, your little friend! Radagast laughed quietly,

_"Uma, re n'uma tamp!" _Yes, she does not stop! 

_"Amin nowa ta naa lisse. Re sinta he dol."_ I think it is sweet. She knows her mind. 

_"Lle n'merna coi yassen re, lle n'nowuva ta naa lisse!"_ You do not want to live with her, you will not think it is sweet! But Llambrin knew that the old wizard was only joking, it was clear he loved the girl dearly as a daughter. Though he was indeed young for an elf, he could as clearly perceive their emotions as if they were visible in the air. He smiled wistfully to himself, looking forward to the day when he would be a father, but then drew himself quickly back to the present moment, he was on an errand that was quickly drawing to a close. They had entered the main body of Lòrien and the trees were becoming larger and even more beautiful. He turned back to Radagast,

_"Lle yela re. Lye naa sha eller."_ Call her. We are almost there. Radagast obliged, calling Galwyn's name loudly until she returned, flushed and happy with a bunch of different coloured wild flowers in her hand.

"I picked them for the Lady!" She said cheerfully. Llambrin looked at Radagast quizzically, until Radagast replied, with a sideways look to Galwyn, 

_"Re sangane i'lotea ten'i'Arwen."_ She gathered the flowers for the Lady. Llambrin smiled indulgently at Galwyn, before holding out an arm to bring them to a stop.

"Here I must leave you." Galwyn noticed he spoke the Western speech less hesitantly than he had before. Obviously talking with her had helped. She whispered something in Radagast's ear and listened carefully to his reply, getting him to repeat it several times, before turning to Llambrin and saying,

_"Amin estela lye omentuva au'rato. Namaarie."_ I hope we will meet again soon. Farewell. Llambrin looked delighted, although with his elven hearing he had already heard what it was she had asked Radagast, and what he had said in return, but he did not let on, and his pleasure was ever increased when she ran over to him and gave him a tight hug. He bent down and kissed the top of her head gently, and replied

_"Namaarie, mellonamin,"_ Farewell, my friend before bowing slightly to Radagast and disappearing into the trees as suddenly as he had first appeared. Galwyn felt the nervousness engulf her once more now the calming effect of the elf's presence had gone. Slid her arm through Radagast's and he gently laid his hand on hers and squeezed it reassuringly. Suddenly, from their right, an elf-maiden approached. Galwyn jumped slightly; she was not used to the silent movement of the elves. She watched as the maiden approached then gasped in wonder, for she had never seen a woman before, and this maiden was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her pale brown hair flowed in a thick river down the back of her pure white gown and her bright blue eyes sparkled like stars. Unable to contain herself she found her voice saying,

"Are you the Lady?" To her surprise the maiden laughed, a tinkling melodic sound that sounded like rain falling. When she spoke, her voice had the same calming quality as Llambrin's. 

"No, young one. I am one of her hand-maidens. I am here to take you to her now. She apologises, for she knows you must be weary, but there is much she needs to discuss with the wizard, Radagast." She made a small gesture for them to follow her and they did, silently, with Galwyn marvelling at the grace and fluidity of movement, that had been present in Llambrin, but was so much more evident in the way this maiden moved. After a few minutes they drew to a stop at the bottom of an enormous tree. The elf-maiden called up into the tree,

_"Ron naa sinome, arwenamin."_ They are here, my Lady. A few seconds later another voice called down from the tree, and it was the most beautiful sound Galwyn had ever heard, even the simple words sounded like a song.

_"Tula sinome. Lye naa desiel."_ Come here. We are ready. The elf-maiden gestured towards an ornate staircase that led up the tree, spiralling around the trunk, leading up to a large platform, before leaving them. Radagast gently led Galwyn by the hand and together they went up the staircase, with Galwyn going first. When she arrived on the platform, Galwyn herself take a sharp intake of breath and she was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open in shock. She had thought the elf-maiden they had seen before was beautiful, but her beauty was nothing in comparison to the elf-queen that sat before her on an intricately carved throne of pale wood. Her golden hair fell in soft waves around her face which possessed such exquisite beauty that Galwyn was unsure if this being was real or a figment of her imagination. Her features were ageless, the physical appearance was young, but mature, but there was a great wisdom and age visible in her eyes which were the bluest, deepest and wisest Galwyn had ever seen and she felt them boring into her, searching out the furthest reaches of her soul, but she met the Lady's gaze bravely, fixing her own eyes on the blue ones, eliciting a small smile from the Lady. Suddenly she heard the sweet voice inside her head,

_"Your soul is true, and you are wise for your years, young one, though you are new to the world and innocent of much that is evil. I see much good in you, but there is much uncertainty. I will try to help you find your identity." _Galwyn replied, but instead of hearing her voice out loud, to her surprise she heard it in her head, as she had heard the Lady's voice:

_"I know not who my parents were. I hope that you can help me, for my heritage plays heavily on my heart." _The Lady smiled at her and the sight brought a smile to her own face. She heard her sweet voice again but this time it was out loud:

"The child is weary with much travel. She will rest now, but I hope that you, Radagast, will stay with me, for there is much I have to tell." She called softly to someone and a few moments later, the elf-maiden appeared on the platform. She gently took Galwyn by the hand and led her back down the staircase and she heard the Lady's voice once more in her mind,

_"Rest well, Galwyn. Tomorrow we shall speak. Quel du." _Good night. As she reached the bottom of the staircase she realised how tired she was, and she was almost falling asleep on her feet by the time they stopped beneath a tree and she was helped by the elf-maiden up onto the platform. She lay down on the soft bedroll that was laid out and almost immediately fell into a sweet, deep sleep with the sounds of elven voices somewhere in the back of her mind.


	4. Concerning revelations and the mirror

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story apart from the plot and Galwyn. All the rest is Tolkien's of course.

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed! 

When Galwyn awoke the next morning, it took her several minutes for her to realise where she was, and then with a jolt it all came back to her. She looked around herself, but all she could see was the space of the platform on which she was sitting, in a small space among the branches and leaves. Someone had left some clean clothes and a plate of fruit and bread next to her on the floor, and looking at the food she realised that she was in fact very hungry. She ate most of what was on the plate before examining what she found to be a gown. She looked at it rather critically because she had never worn dresses and never seen one until she came to Lòrien, in Fangorn it was just her and Radagast, and she had no cause to look particularly nice, and she just preferred to be comfortable, and her usual attire was a tunic drawn in at the waist with a belt, and some leggings. She preferred to blend in with her surroundings rather than stand out, and her clothes were usually green, brown or grey. This gown was white, but with a hint of cream, giving it a hue that she had no name for. It was fitted around the chest, and had a slightly fuller skirt. It was sewn all over with crystal like beads, and the stitching was in a pale gold thread. Galwyn was not sure about it, but then she looked at her travel worn clothes and remembered how beautifully attired the elves were, and a desire not to embarrass herself led her to pull it on over her head. The skirt felt strange and airy, but the sensation of the silky material against her skin was not unpleasant and she enjoyed the sound of the skirt swishing against her legs. She had no mirror, but if she had, she would have seen how effectively the off-white colour of the gown set off her tanned skin, jet-black hair and violet eyes. She looked rather more than the fourteen years that she was. She saw that someone had left some soft, blue shoes for her and she slid her feet into them, marvelling at how comfortable they were. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair to remove at least some of the tangles, and then began to descend the ladder to the ground. When she reached the bottom, she looked around, unsure of where to go. Suddenly she felt a presence behind her and found the elf-maiden from the previous night standing close by her, smiling.

"That gown is very becoming on you, my dear. I thought it would be." Galwyn blushed and replied shyly,

"It was you that put it there then? Thank you, it is lovely. But not exactly what I am accustomed to." She gave an embarrassed smile, and the elf-maiden nodded;

"Yes, I saw that you arrived wearing attire that was more in the style of what the male elves of Lòrien wear. But perhaps it is a good time for a change, for you are not as young as you once were." Galwyn was not quite sure what she was getting at, but her tone was warm and friendly, and she knew she meant no offence. It bothered her slightly that she didn't know her name, so she introduced herself properly.

"It displeases me that I have not properly made you acquaintance. My name is Galwyn. I have no second name, for I don't know who my parents are, and all I have is Radagast." The maiden's expression held something of pity and understanding in it when she replied, extending her hand to Galwyn.

"My name is Ralia Tirileuthil Bright-gem. I am handmaiden to the Lady Galadriel. I also am without parents, for the passed into the west a long time ago." Now that Galwyn realised she would not be judged for her lack of identity, she felt much more comfortable. She spent the morning with Ralia and found that they got on very well. Ralia told her about her all about Lòrien and its ways and customs, and Galwyn learnt that the beautiful golden trees were called 'mallorns', and the platforms in them were called 'talans'. She even managed to persuade her to teach her some more elven phrases and words. She thought the elven language was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, and loved the way that just speaking it made it sound like you were speaking poetry or singing a song. When the sun was high in the sky and the morning was drawing to a close, Ralia told Galwyn that it was time for her to meet with the Lady of the Wood. She immediately felt the tug of nerves on her stomach, but it quickly subsided when she remembered the gentle voice of the Lady inside her head, soft and warm. She nodded and they made their way to the large tree that she had visited the previous night. Ralia left her at the bottom, going off in another direction with a wave to Galwyn, who began to climb the winding staircase to the platform, brushing the fingers of her right hand against the smooth bark as she ascended. Soon she reached the platform and as she stood facing the Lady she dropped a graceful curtsey. The Lady beckoned her to sit on a seat next to her and she went over timidly. 

"Be at peace child. You need not trouble yourself, there is no judgement here." Galwyn looked at her in shock, how had she known what she was thinking? But the Lady just smiled and continued in her soft, melodious voice:

"Radagast tells me you have a special gift, Galwyn. I am most interested in finding out whether all is as he suspects. Would you mind performing the same feat that you did when you… changed form as it were?" Closing her eyes obligingly, Galwyn carefully lowered her mind into the same state as she had before, concentrating her mind on a small, brown bird that had alighted on a branch nearby. After a while, she opened her eyes to find herself in the same predicament as before, only this time she was in the form of the bird. She then closed her eyes again and broke off the concentration, returning to her normal form. She looked expectantly at Galadriel who was looking at her thoughtfully.  

"So it is indeed as Radagast expected. You do indeed have a very special, and very rare gift, child. But I must explain the relevance of your powers. There is, at any one point in time in Middle Earth, a single being that has been blessed by the Valar as a part of their supreme plan with rare powers. The nature of these powers is the ability to change form, or 'shape-shift' as it is referred to among those who are aware of this occurrence. The possession of these powers makes the being that possesses them very important in the course of steering the path of events that they come across. And it is you, Galwyn, who is that chosen being. You are the shape-shifter." Galadriel's words had been running through Galwyn's mind as she spoke, and the meaning of them had grown ever clearer as she had realised just what the Lady was driving at. Galadriel watched the young one's face as she saw the impact of her words had sunk in. Galwyn's face had turned white and her hands were shaking slightly.

"You wish to know why you were chosen?" She asked gently, and as Galwyn nodded, she stood up with an ease of movement that suggested she was not made of flesh and bones.  "I knew the last shape-shifter, a man named Daroden. He was killed around 14 years ago. Until now, we had no knowledge of the identity of the new shape-shifter, for as you yourself had not discovered your powers, we could not detect them either. You must have been born at the exact moment that Daroden was killed, and in that instant, the Valar transferred his powers to you." Galwyn nodded again, more slowly. Galadriel smiled gently. "You also wish to know about your parents?" Without waiting for an answer, as none was necessary, she extended her hand to the young mortal and together they descended the staircase and went down a pathway that Galwyn had not yet travelled. It ended in a clearing that was empty except for a short stone pedestal with a silver basin on top. One side of the clearing was made from a wall of rock that curved round until it was only a few feet high. The level of the ground on the other side of the wall followed the height of the wall and a small stream descended down it, finishing in a small waterfall dropping into a round clear, sparkling pool. Galadriel picked up a small silver jug that stood near the waterfall and filled it up from the cascading water. Then going over to the pedestal she emptied the water into the basin and gestured for Galwyn to come over to it. 

"Will you look into the mirror?"

"What will I see?"

"Even the wisest cannot tell. For the mirror shows many things. Things that were, things that are, and some things that have not yet come to pass." With some trepidation, Galwyn stepped up the pedestal and looked into the water of the mirror. For a moment she saw nothing except her reflection and she looked up expectantly at Galadriel who held her gaze then directed it back to the surface. Suddenly the texture of the water began to change and she saw herself, only a bit older, still in Lòrien, and listening intently to Galadriel. She then saw herself again, still older, in another place that was every bit as beautiful as Lòrien, but was strange and foreign to her. She saw a strange dark-haired, noble looking elf, and then the vision flashed back to her, she was looking at someone, her eyes filled with an unknown emotion, and then another figure drifted into view. It was another dark-haired elf that bore similar features to the previous one. She was embracing him, and they were speaking to each other. Suddenly she saw flashes of strange faces, some elven, and some human, and the others were all new and odd. They were going somewhere. Suddenly the vision altered and she saw terrible things, causing her to cry out in distress: there was death and cruelty and pain. Finally she saw a couple running through a forest, a blond haired human woman and a dark haired male elf, they had fear in their eyes and the elf was carrying a bundle as though it was very precious. She saw them hide the bundle and run on, and saw the onslaught of what followed them. Unable to watch what she knew was coming; she tore her gaze away from the mirror with a strangled cry. And sat heavily down, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. _Her parents!_ The realisation that they were dead was hard for her to bear, she had always held a hope that they were still alive and she would see them, but it would never be. She was alone. After a few moments, her sobs began to subside and she looked up to see the Lady looking down at her. She rapidly wiped her face and stood up. The calm voice came again, once more in her head.

"I know what it is you saw, for it is also in my mind. They were visions of your future and past. You are to stay here for a while, Galwyn, and learn the control of your gift, for it cannot be used lightly and it is not without its negative effects. It will cause you to be weary if you leave your true for long periods of time. I will teach you." Her face softened slightly, "I am sorry for your parents, child. But at least I can enlighten you on the reason for their terrible fate. Your mother was the daughter of a man from Ithilien, a realm of Gondor. He was an important man, a spy, who made alliances with the men who supported the dark powers. But he was discovered, and killed, and forces were sent to kill all his family to set an example to other would-be spies. That included your mother and your father, an elf of the realm of Imladris. But before all was lost, they were able to save you."

"So I am not a mortal after all?"

"No child, you are mortal as you do not have the gift of the Valar. You have a half-elven heritage, but it is a mortal life that has been chosen for you, as the shape-shifter, for they are nearly always mortal. But I do not doubt you will possess some of the elven traits."

"So I am to stay here and learn from you?"

"Yes, child. That is how it is to be."

"And Radagast? Will he stay here too?"

"No, he has other business to attend to. He must help to look after Fangorn for a little more time, and then he will travel to the other great forests and make sure they are cared for sufficiently. Maybe soon he will journey back again to Lòrien."

"Has he left yet?"

"No, he wanted to say good bye to you first. Come, child, let us make our way back, for he wishes to leave soon." Galwyn followed her slowly back to the big tree which housed the main talan. Radagast stood beneath it, his horse ready and saddled. He gave her a small, slightly pained smile as she approached. There was a slightly tense silence before Galwyn threw herself at him, the man who had raised her like a father from birth. They stood, locked in a heartfelt embrace for a few moments before Radagast gently disengaged her arms and kissed her lightly on the forehead. He looked at Galadriel with a serious look on his face,

"Lle maliuva ten're ten'amin, Arwenamin?" You will care for her for me, my Lady? Galadriel easily perceived the depth of emotion that was running through the wizard's mind, they had been acquainted for many years and she was particularly fond of him. But she knew he was not one to show his emotions and so his behaviour was strange and touching. She smiled and replied gently,

"Amin umuva ta. N'gorguva." I will do it. Do not fear. He returned her smile and accepted her promise; she was one of the only people he would entrust to look after Galwyn as carefully as he would. Without another word he mounted his horse and held up his hand in a gesture of farewell.

"Namaarie hinamin." Farewell, my child. And with that, he was gone, speeding off back to Fangorn, her home. She felt a lone tear run slowly down her cheek before she brushed it away. She would see him soon, she thought hopefully. Lòrien was her home now. Galadriel watched the young girl, still so young but being forced to grow up before her time. She placed a gentle hand on Galwyn's cheek,

"I hope you will learn to be happy here, Galwyn, and we will endeavour to be to you what Radagast was." Looking in the beautiful, wise, kind face of the Lady, Galwyn knew that she would, and that Galadriel would not break her word. She smiled, and it was a true smile, shining through her sadness. With linked hands, Galadriel took her all around Lòrien, showing her what she had not yet seen. Finally, she took her to her talan where the Lord of Lòrien was waiting for them. Celeborn was the embodiment of nobility; his ageless face showed a wisdom equal to that of Galadriel's, and his immensely fair face was also kind and gentle. Galadriel left them alone for a while, and Celeborn told Galwyn the answers to every question that she had, and there were many. They spoke for a long time, not noticing the fall of dusk and the faint glimmer of the stars, until Galadriel returned and told them that it was time to eat. They stood up, and Galwyn marvelled once more at the ease of movement he possessed, although she now knew that it was merely an elven trait. She was feeling rather overwhelmed by the day that had gone by, a lot had happened for her young mind to take in, and much of it had caused her pain and hurt. But despite her age, she had a resolute attitude to tasks appointed to her, and she realised the importance of her powers, and was ready to go into Galadriel's teaching with her whole heart. She was still, despite all of her kindness and obvious wisdom, slightly wary of Galadriel, for she could sense that an immensely potent power lay in her possession, lying dormant until she chose to use it, and Galwyn found this slightly intimidating. She felt much more comfortable with Celeborn, as she was far more used to the company of men, and though his wisdom and knowledge was equal to that of Galadriel, she felt that she could relate to him more, and he to her; the company of the Lady often made her feel insignificant and humble. 

At the meal she was remarkably silent, and the gaze of the Lady was often upon her, making sure she was all right. Galadriel had noticed how well Galwyn had got on with Ralia, and had instructed her to be the young mortal's companion until she was more settled. Ralia had accepted happily, and after the meal the two excused themselves in order to go for a short walk before retiring. The young elf-maiden noticed Galwyn's silence but did not pry, she understood how she must be feeling, so she kept the conversation light. After she had shown Galwyn to her new talan, which was situated nearer to that of the Lord and Lady, and though she was unaware of it, guarded closely at all times when she was in it, Ralia gave the girl some comforting words:

"I know your heart is heavy, my friend, but soon I hope the beauty of Lòrien and the company of its inhabitants will lighten your grief. I, for my part, will do all I can to ensure it. Quel du, mellonamin." Good night, my friend. 

"Quel du." Galwyn replied, smiling gratefully at her kind words. She was greatly touched when Ralia gently embraced her, then kissed her on the cheek. It was comforting to have someone to rely on, and it was with a lighter heart that she ascended the ladder to her talan.

A/N: So what do you think? Please review, as it's nice to get some feedback! This is not my first story, but the first one I've posted on FF.net, so please don't flame me too badly if that's what you want to do! 


	5. Concerning Gandalf, the theft and the pl...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story apart from the plot and Galwyn. All the rest is Tolkien's of course.

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed! And if there is incorrect stuff in here, then it is like that to fit in with the plot!

Under Galadriel's tutelage, Galwyn's control of her power grew. Her initial attempts at holding a form for longer periods of time left her physically and mentally exhausted, and she began to despair that she would ever have full control over it. But as time passed, she found she could transform for longer and longer, with more and more ease. Galadriel watched her progress with scrutiny, pushing the young girl to her limits, but never over them. When Galwyn was not being tutored, the Elven queen encouraged her to mix with the other elves of her age, of which there were several, in Lòrien. Her friendship with Ralia deepened and they became very good friends, and the elf-maiden helped her out of her shyness towards the other elves, coaxing her into joining in their gatherings that were filled with laughter, dancing and song. As she grew more confident in the company of the other elves, and gained fluency in their language, she gained more control over her powers. She found that, if she concentrated on a person, she could imitate their voice, and subsequently discovered she could take on their form as well. Galadriel however, upon discovering what Galwyn had found out, forbade her to ever use her power to imitate another person unless specifically instructed to do so, telling her, rightfully, that it would never come to any good.

Six years later… 

The Elven Queen was extremely pleased with the way Galwyn was progressing. In the six years she had been in Lòrien, she had become almost totally in control of her powers, and able to transform at will, even if the subject was not present, and for as long as she wanted, though being in another form for a long time still tended to leave her weary, something that would diminish with practice. Her travels with the Elven queen to Imladris to receive tuition from its Lord had given her even more skills. Galwyn had blossomed into a gracious, though somewhat headstrong, young woman, and it was at the end of her third year there, with her twentieth birthday approaching, that Galadriel received the news that turned her young charge's life upside down. 

Vilya, the ring of Airs, given to Elrond Peredhil of Imladris by the elven king Gil-Galad at the end of the Second Age, had been stolen. On a trip to visit King Thranduil of Mirkwood, who dwelt in the north east region of the forest, near to the Lonely Mountain, the elven lord's party had been ambushed as they took the Old forest Road by a group of orcs and wargs led by some dark, cloaked and hooded men, that far exceeded them in strength. The Noldor elven lord Glorfindel had managed to protect his Lord using his magic while the other elves held off the forces around them, until he himself had been wounded. At this point, Elrond had been taken by the group, beaten, and the ring of Power, which he carried with him at all times, stolen. When Glorfindel had found his Lord, his injuries were many and terrible, and he was barely alive. Glorfindel himself had taken him, riding at an immense pace on his horse to the dwelling of Thranduil where the healers there had done all they could to help the Master of Imladris, who was himself the most gifted and powerful healer in Middle Earth.

It was Gandalf the Grey who delivered the news of their son-in-law to Galadriel and Celeborn, for Elrond was married to their daughter Celebrian who had passed over to the west many years ago. He came alone, troubled and weary from the long ride. For a long time he was in council with the Lord and Lady of Lòrien, for there was much the Grey wizard had to tell them.

Galwyn, however, was unaware that anything was awry; she had seen the wizard arrive, but Gandalf often visited Lothlòrien, and his presence was usually just to report on the business of the more distant reaches of Middle Earth. Often when Gandalf was there, he himself had tutored her, and she greatly enjoyed his company, for though usually serious, he always had an amusing story or song. There were several times when Radagast accompanied him, although the brown wizard was not able to leave Fangorn that often, for unlike Gandalf, he was the keeper of the forest, and had not the freedom to roam the lands as Gandalf did, although the Grey Wizard spent much time in the Shire with the halflings.

Galadriel and Celeborn listened to all that Gandalf had to say in solemn silence. The Lady of Lòrien was herself a bearer of a Ring of Power. She was the keeper of Nenya, the Ring of waters, which had a single, white, stone of great beauty. Gandalf, too, was a ring bearer- and wore Narya, the Ring of fire, on his hand. Elrond's plight was of great importance, for in the possession of someone else, the Ring could be turned to evil uses. And it was obvious that the attack had been planned, for it had been the Elven Lord who had been targeted directly. Galadriel spoke quietly, and with great seriousness.

"And what state is Elrond presently in?" 

"He was stable when I left Mirkwood. Gwaihir the Eagle King was with me as I arrived there, and I asked of him to bring me word should anything befall Elrond. But I have not heard anything to suggest he is not healing. But I believe there will be mental scars; for Glorfindel told me he believed they had tortured him. As it is, only he, Elrond and two others from their party survived the attack, so great were the opposing numbers." Gandalf replied, and Celeborn nodded sadly.

"This is something that must be investigated immediately. It appears evil forces are once more gathering in Dol Guldur. Who has taken charge of Imladris?"

"Glorfindel has chosen to remain in Mirkwood while Elrond heals, so he may accompany him on his return to Imladris, but I believe Elladan has taken charge of his father's realm. Elrohir and Arwen are on their way here, I believe, and will arrive in a few days." Galadriel nodded at the news: she had been aware of her daughter and grandchildren's approach since that morning. She was glad of it, for she wanted Arwen where she knew she would be safe. Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Elrond and Celebrian where easily capable of looking after themselves, for they had long been trained in the arts of swordplay and archery and were some of the best warriors that Middle Earth had to offer.

"And Arwen? How is she coping?" Galadriel said with concern in her voice.

"I fear it is all too familiar for her. Celebrian's leaving was painful for her, and now the same thing has happened to her father, I believe she feels he too, will leave her. Elladan and Elrohir seem to be coping however. But I have never known them to allow their emotions to get the better of them. And they have each other for support." Celeborn listened to Gandalf with the utmost attention. The elven lord knew that the matter was of great importance and that something had to be done immediately. He voiced his own plan as it came into his mind.

"Vilya must be recovered. It is imperative that it be returned to its keeper. We must discover the source of the evil in Dol Guldur, and it must be defeated. I think we must gather a small group of elite with which to gather information, and muster an army to storm the stronghold once it is found." He exchanged a glance with his wife. "I believe this is Galwyn's calling. She would be the perfect spy, for she can take on the form of the foul creatures in order to find out the information we require." Galadriel and Gandalf nodded in agreement. The Elven Queen spoke, and the wizard detected the sadness and concern she felt for the young mortal who had been her charge.

"She must join the group and help to recover Vilya. There is nothing else to be done. We will hold a council here and appeal for elves of all the realms, and I will send word to the Dúnedain also."

"And what of the other kingdoms of men?" Gandalf asked.

"They will not come. Neither will the dwarves. Both races are selfish and too absorbed in their own local problems to worry about what happens to the Elven rings. We will deal with it ourselves, for they will not be of any help to us." Celeborn spoke with surprising passion in his voice, for he was usually completely calm. Galadriel put a hand on his arm, and he instantly regained his composure. She spoke quietly.

"Gandalf, will you see to it that word reaches Elladan and Thranduil. We will hold the council in Imladris as soon as possible. Myself and Celeborn will arrange things here in Lòrien."

"Of course. I will send for Gwaihir and he will take the message for me, for there is no faster messenger. I will leave this very hour for Imladris and make plans for the council with Elladan."

"May the Valar protect you on your travels, Gandalf."

"May they forever shine their blessings down on you, fair Lord and Lady." Without another word, Gandalf immediately went to his horse and left the Golden Wood for the elven realm of Imladris.

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Galadriel and Celeborn stayed deep in conversation for several hours after Gandalf's departure, discussing who would represent Lòrien in the group. Both were sad to know that their time with Galwyn had ended, but such was the way with mortals: their time passed so quickly in comparison to the elves. But they knew that this was her fate; this was her calling. Elrond visited Lòrien often, usually with Arwen, and Galwyn had come to know him very well. She herself had been to Imladris for long periods of time when the Lord of the realm had instructed her in the art of healing, and Glorfindel had taught her how to use a sword and bow. Arwen had become as an elder sister to the young mortal, but she was yet to meet the twins, for they were seldom at home, preferring to travel with the Dúnedain and the various elven hunting parties that stalked the rogue orc bands. After a long silence, Galadriel spoke.

"I suppose we must call Galwyn and inform her, for she will be distressed, and need some time to come to terms with the news before she will be able to travel."

"Yes, I will send for her myself." Celeborn replied. He stood and left the talan, reappearing a few minutes later. He sat down next to his wife and took her smooth white hand in his own, and they waited in silence for Galwyn to arrive.

She came after several minutes, looking rather flushed and out of breath. She had a worried expression on her face and this increased when she saw how serious the Lord and Lady looked. Celeborn gestured for her to sit on the chair opposite, and then spoke gently to her.

"Galwyn, you know that Gandalf arrived here this morning?"

"Yes, I saw him arrive this morning. But wasn't that him I saw leaving a few hours ago?"

"It was. He has gone to Imladris. The reason for which involve you. You must listen carefully to what I will tell you, Galwyn. For it is of the greatest importance." Although he spoke calmly, he saw her become pale with worry. But it was necessary for him to carry on, and so he wasted no time in explaining the situation to his foster-daughter. She was, as he and Galadriel had expected, very distressed at the news, for the Lord of Imladris had been very kind to her, and she was very fond of him. But she had grasped the importance of the ring's retrieval at once, for Celeborn himself had been her tutor in the history of Middle Earth, and she knew everything there was to know of the three rings of power. She sat back in her chair with silent tears running down her cheeks. As she had grown up, and spent the happiest of her days in Lòrien (though it had taken a long time for her to accept the absence of Radagast in her life, and to look upon the Lord and Lady as her foster-parents), she had also become increasingly aware of the evil that lurked in the background, though it was scarcely visible from the safety of the golden wood. But she knew of Celebrian's plight, and remembered the tears she had wept for the daughter of the Elven king and queen. And to have the same thing happen to someone she knew; it was just awful. And it was doubly terrible in that Vilya had been stolen from its keeper. She managed to regain her composure when Galadriel assured her that the best of care was being taken to heal the elven Lord, but she knew that the conversation was not over.

"And what part do I play in this sorry set of events?"

"We are planning a retrieval of the ring, and you are to act as the spy. We will require you to take on probably orcish forms and find out what we never could. You will be accompanied by a small group of warriors for protection, and we will be mustering an elven army so we are fully prepared, should it be needed. Of course, we will not force you to…"

"Of course! I would not dream of refusing!" Galwyn interrupted Galadriel's words, and the elven queen smiled wryly as Galwyn reacted exactly as she had imagined. She and Celeborn began to explain more fully to Galwyn now that she had understood the situation, and answered her many questions until late in the night.

A/N: So what do you think? Do I carry on? Or give it up now? Please review!


	6. Concerning beautiful elves and spying

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story apart from the plot and Galwyn. All the rest is Tolkien's of course.

A/N: Thanks to Midnight for her continued reviews! This chapter is especially for you!

Please inform me of any mistakes in my elvish, but I only have very primitive resources, so it's quite likely to have mistakes in it!

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Elrohir's senses were more alert than they had ever been as the group made their way towards Lòrien. Not even the slightest rustle of vegetation or twig snapping went without investigation, and the escort of Imladris guardians, unaware of what had befallen their Lord, were beginning to grow weary of their young leader's rather extreme vigilance. Elrohir knew the route from his home to the Golden wood like the back of his hand, for it was one he had made many times in his life, but he knew that in times such as these, one's life could rest on their level of vigilance. He wished sadly that he had more time to bask in the beauty and gloriousness of Lòrien for it had been many decades since he had wandered, free in spirit, under the trees there. He was riding unconsciously, his body moving in tandem with the animal beneath him, so perfectly synchronised that he barely felt the movement. Indeed, it was a good thing, for he was unable to use both hands to hold onto the horse's mane, for one arm was presently wrapped around the body of his sister, who sat in front of him, leaning back against him in gentle slumber. She had requested that she share his horse with him, for she needed to be close enough to him to speak without the others hearing. He looked down at the sleeping features of his younger sibling; at her pale, flawless skin, luminous blue eyes that was so reminiscent of their mother, currently glazed and blank as she wandered the paths of elven dreams, and the river of wavy, dark hair. It was not for no reason that people compared her with Lùthien, who had been, as legend said, the most beautiful woman ever to have walked Middle earth. His arm tightened round her protectively as he remembered the distress she was feeling at their father's predicament. He and his twin were able to be more composed about the situation, but Arwen had been hit a lot harder by the departure of their mother, whom she had shared the closest of bonds.

As he reflected, the body of his sister suddenly tensed and she jolted awake with a scream that pierced his ears and made his heart turn cold. He pulled his horse Celebmir (Silver jewel) to an abrupt stop and heard the rest of the escort do likewise as he attempted in vain to calm the shaking figure before him. Tears were coursing down the beautiful face of his sister and she buried her face in his shoulder as she sobbed: _Father! No! No! Please no…_

"Peace, Arwen. Peace. It was just a dream."

"It was so horrible, Elrohir. I saw it all like I was there. They took him, and they…they…tortured him. Oh, father! Father…" Her voice tailed off as the sobs wracked her body. Elrohir pulled her closer to him and gently rocked her, stroking her hair until the crying subsided and she grew more still. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his skin as it had soaked through his tunic and shirt, and he felt a bolt of sadness and fear pierce his heart for his family, and especially his father. _Oh, Elbereth! Let him live! Let him remain! Let him be alright…_He looked round at the guardians who were trying their best not to look shocked and curious at the weeping form of their Evenstar. Elrohir briefly removed his hand from his sister's head to make a gesture that indicated they would be moving on in a minute, and to just rest for a moment.

"Arwen?" He said gently, pulling her away from him so he could look into her face. She was pale and drawn and her eyes were filled with fear. "Arwen, listen to me. Father will not leave us. He will be fine. He is strong." She shook her head sadly at his words.

"Mother was strong. And she still left us."

"It is not the same, Arwen. Father will not leave us."

"Do you promise? Can you give me your word he will not leave?"

"I give you my word." _Do not fail me, father…_

Arwen looked at Elrohir as though the intensity of her gaze would discern whether or not he was telling the truth. She looked into the bright silver-grey eyes set in the beautiful, familiar face of her brother, identical to that of his twin, that was framed with long, straight hair even darker than her own. She could not see anything but honesty and sincerity written there, and she sighed heavily.

"Thank you, Elrohir. I don't know what I would do without you and Elladan. I am just so afraid, that is all."

"I know. You do not have to explain to me. Now, try to rest. It will not be that long now." He waited while she turned round and settled herself more comfortably before giving the signal to move off. He hugged her gently and felt her rest her slender hand over his own.

"I love you." She whispered almost inaudibly as sleep overtook her exhausted body once more.

"I love you too, dear sister." He replied, suddenly becoming aware of just how much he cherished his family. He hastily pushed the thought away, knowing that if he let the realisation surface, he would feel exactly as Arwen did, and would not be able to comfort her. He settled back into the rhythm of riding, and scanned his surroundings as they came ever closer to their destination.

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They arrived at Lòrien the next evening, and began to pass under the first trees of the forest as the stars started to become visible. The party was weary for they had stopped only to give the horses a rest, and the rest of the time they had been riding. Elrohir, the only highly experienced rider out of the group, was the only one whose muscles were not screaming for relief, and even Arwen, who was a competent rider, was complaining about her fatigue. They were met by one of the Lòrien guardians named Haldir, an elf whom Elrohir knew well, with a pale, handsome face with bright blue eyes and long, golden blonde hair. The youngest twin managed to pull his expression of concern into a smile when he saw his friend.

_"Mae govannen, iantmellon. Sut naa lle umien?" _Well met, old friend. How are you doing? 

"Amin naa quel, nan'nae saian luume." I am well, but it has been too long. 

_"Aiya, amin sinta. Amin tulaya ner, nan'amin caela sai'um."_ Alas, I know. I would come more, but I have much to do. 

_"Elrohir, i'tari naa feithien yuuyo lle. Re merna lle tul ale'lye tela sinome_."  Elrohir, the queen is waiting for you. She wants you to come as soon as we finish here. 

"Diola lle, Haldir. Llie tuluva rato." Thank you, Haldir. We will come soon. Elrohir replied, turning to address some of the Imladris guardians. "Sylbryn, lle gara san i'rokko yassen Gilendil ar'Felandon?" Sylbryn, can you take the horses with Gilendil and Felandon? 

_"Uma, Heruamin." _Yes, my lord. Elrohir dismounted his horse and helped his sister down. He stroked Celebmir's nose and gave him a carrot he had been saving in his pocket. The horse tossed his head in appreciation and began to happily munch the treat. Another Lòrien guardian appeared from the undergrowth and led the escort and horses away, leaving Haldir with Arwen and Elrohir. Watching his sister conversing with Haldir as they made their way deeper into the forest, Elrohir was pleased to see that Arwen had lost her drawn expression, and was looking more like she did normally: bright and luminously beautiful. But as he examined her expression, he was worried to see that the fear was still present in her eyes for anyone who was looking for it. He knew that their grandmother, Galadriel, would notice it immediately, and he hoped that she had received some news from Gandalf that would lift their spirits. Telling himself that all would be well, he resigned his concerns to the background and concentrated on enjoying the company of his friend and sister. What he did not notice was the snowy owl that was flying from tree to tree, following their progress.

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Galwyn had been aware of the approach of the two children of Elrond from when Galadriel and Celeborn had told her in their talk two nights ago. Since then, the Lord and Lady of Lòrien had been occupied with their own preparations, and Galwyn had been able to spend some time on her own to practice her skills. She had been flying around the borders of the Golden wood, which was beautiful from the air, in her favourite bird form: the snowy owl, when she had seen the party approaching. Swooping down, she had seen her good friend Arwen seated on a beautiful silver horse, held tightly in the arms of someone she did not recognise, but who had to be, judging by the similarity in their features, one of the twin sons of Elrond. Eager to look closer, she had waited patiently in a tree until the party passed beneath her. She had watched as Haldir, an elf that she knew exceedingly well as he was to be married shortly to her friend Ralia, had welcomed the party and sure enough, had addressed the elf with Arwen as Elrohir, a name she knew belonged to the younger of the twin sons of Elrond, although they had never met before. She had looked upon him and in that split second moment, realised that he was the elf from her vision in the mirror. Of course, she knew that it could well have been his identical twin Elladan who had been in her vision, but something told her that it was this brother, the younger, who she had seen. In her surprise, she had examined his face more carefully and noted with pleasure the beauty of his face and the great depths of his shining silvery eyes behind the curtain of dark hair. When he dismounted his horse and helped his sister down, she took in his tall, lean, yet muscular form, the long, athletic legs, broad shoulders and narrow hips. For a few moments, she was unable to tear her eyes away, but then her sense returned and she chastised herself. She had seen many a beautiful elf in Lòrien; Haldir, for example, was immensely fair, as was his prospective bride, and she knew that she would never be with this particular elf, for he was a Noldor elf lord, in a position of great importance, and she…she was a mere mortal of no standing. She turned her thoughts back to more productive issues and began to make her way to the Lord and Lady, following in the wake of the three elves.

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A/N: Please review if you like it, and if you don't, well then please give me some constructive criticism as to how to make it better!


	7. Concerning numerous blondes

Disclaimer: Do I really have to keep repeating myself? I don't own nowt but the plot and Galwyn. Everything belongs to Monsieur Tolkien. So don't sue me. Oh yeah, I own everything you don't recognise, like Legolas' brothers.

A/N: Hope you like this chapter, I'm trying to broaden it a bit and introduce lots of POVs. Please review and tell me if you like it!

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Under the cool shade of the trees in the Mirkwood palace's gardens that were bordered by the forest, Glorfindel was attempting to meditate. But no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind and release his spirit onto that higher plan where he could truly be at one with himself and the life around him, he failed, for unlike the quiet peacefulness of his home Imladris, the forest around him was full of tension and he could feel the presence of darkness that was beginning to infiltrate more and more strongly the light of the forest. With a sad sigh, he stood up on the branch he had been sitting on with his back resting against the trunk, legs stretched out, and jumped lightly down. His feet made virtually no sound as they made contact with the ground, and Glorfindel made his way back to the palace where his greatest friend lay, slipping in and out of consciousness while the healers performed what appeared to be miracles of their craft on the numerous wounds that punctured the Lord of Imladris' body. The handsome blond elf appeared wearier than he ever had, and the light that usually shone around him was dim. He had dark circles under his green eyes, which held none of their usual sparkle. His worries for the safety of his friend, and the loss of Vilya, weighed heavily on his mind, and he knew from the words exchanged with Elrond when he was conscious, that it troubled his mind also.

When their party had been attacked, it had taken all of them by surprise, and although they had heard their approach, they had not expected to encounter an enemy, and certainly not one of such strength. Glorfindel closed his eyes as he remembered how he and Elrond had stood together, calling up the strength of their powers to drive back the huge numbers of foes, but to no avail. Glorfindel had been shot in the shoulder blade by a luckily, un-poisoned arrow, but he had been rendered unconscious, and had it not been for the other two surviving elves carrying him away from danger, he knew he would not have survived. When he had regained consciousness, still in the forest, his first thought had been of his Lord, and despite the pain in his shoulder, he had taken the two survivors back into the now quiet forest to search for Elrond. It had been he who had found him, left for dead, lying broken and bloody, some distance from the clearing where most of the fighting had taken place. They had picked through the bodies of orcs and of the eight elves that had died protecting their Lord, in vain. Glorfindel remembered the horror and fear he had felt when he had seen his greatest friend, his light all but extinguished, barely recognisable from the cuts, bruises and swellings on his face. He had insisted on carrying Elrond's body himself, despite the pain in his shoulder, while the two young elves, bows at the ready, kept up as much of a guard as two elves possibly could. He recalled how pale the skin on his Lord's face was, from what he could see under the caked mud, bruising and dried blood. Elrond was pale skinned anyway, but he had had a deathly grey pallor that had chilled Glorfindel's heart. 

Opening his eyes, the blond Noldor lord realised he had been standing stationary in the same spot for some time, and running a tired hand through his long hair, he started off again to the palace. Once inside, he made his way straight to the healing wing where Elrond lay, his skin not much warmer than ice, and still holding a deathly pallor, as his body and the healers fought the effects of the poison from the blades that had cut him. As he approached the corridor that led to the Lord of Imladris' chambers, he heard quiet voices talking, and turning the corner, he saw Thranduil, king of the wood-elves of Mirkwood, speaking with his three sons: Legolas, Lysandil and Daromir, the youngest. He reflected as he saw them together, how much they all resembled each other, as though they had all been made from the same mould. Each of the three had inherited their father's deep, sapphire blue eyes and pale blond hair, lighter than his own hair, which was a deeper gold in colour. Each was also, as their, father was, exquisitely handsome, and the combination of all their lights so close together created a deeper glow around them. As they heard him coming, all four turned and smiled, in a manner so similar that was quite unnerving. Glorfindel found it strange enough when he saw Elladan and Elrohir together, for they were exact images of each other, alike in every detail but their personalities; but to see four people of such similar appearance was even stranger. The three princes bowed as he stopped in front of them, and Glorfindel returned their gesture, before repeating it to Thranduil, who nodded in acknowledgement.

"Greetings, Glorfindel. I trust you are well today and your shoulder is not causing you any pain?" The king of Mirkwood's voice was quiet and melodious, and as he spoke, his eyes met Glorfindel's, searching them for any signs of pain.

"None at all, Thranduil, thank you. Your healer's did a remarkable job. It feels as if it had never been hurt." Glorfindel said, not sure whether the lie would be detected, for the arrow had gone deep into his shoulder, and the pain in the muscle it had punctured was often terrible. Thranduil did not say anything, but merely nodded thoughtfully, watching the elf Lord with some pity. He knew of the deep bond between Elrond and Glorfindel, and it pained him somewhat, for he too, had shared a bond with the Lord of Imladris, before bitterness over Celebrian, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, had driven a rift between them. Long ago, both had desired her hand in marriage, but in the end it had been Elrond she had chosen. Thranduil, full of bitterness towards the elf who had once been his greatest friend, had ceased all communications with Imladris for many decades, but then he had met and fallen in love with Telenriel, the sister of one of his most important advisors, who had become his queen, and mother to his children, before she had died giving birth to their fourth child, a girl, who had been stillborn. When Thranduil had heard of the attack on Celebrian, and of her passing to the west, very close to the time when his own wife died, he had known that it was time for he and Elrond to put their paths behind them, and recommence their friendship. Elrond, full of joy at Thranduil's change of heart, had agreed, and the two had started corresponding and undertaking annual visits once again, much to the happiness of the Lord and Lady of Lòrien. While their friendship was still not as strong as it had once been, and could not compare to that of Elrond and Glorfindel, Thranduil could easily gauge what the elf Lord before him was feeling, for he felt it too.

"Is he conscious?" Glorfindel asked quietly.

"No, I am afraid not. He awoke a few minutes ago, but he was suffering from the delirium of the fever, and we could not get a word of sense from him."

"May I see him?"

"Yes, of course." 

"Thank you." He bowed to the group and was about to leave when Thranduil caught his arm.

"Let your mind be at peace, Glorfindel. He is stable; the fever will pass. We must just wait." Glorfindel smiled weakly at the elf who had been an unexpected support in his turmoil, and entered the chamber that had housed his lord and friend since he himself had borne him to the palace. There, bathed in sunlight that masked the dimness of his own light, lay the thin and fragile form of Elrond: a mere shadow of the elf he usually was. He was lying with his head resting on a pile of pillows, with the bed-covers pulled halfway up his stomach, so that a fair portion of his chest was visible, swathed in bandages that covered the poultices applied to minimise the scarring. Glorfindel noted that his lord appeared to be slightly less pale than the previous day, although there was still not much difference in colour between the bandages and his skin. He went over to the bed and sat in the chair that stood beside it, taking Elrond's nearest hand between his own, and wincing at its icy feel. He sat there silently, eyes closed, not saying anything, trying to reach Elrond's mind with his own, to help him back to health as he had done so many times for him.

Thranduil watched the blond elf lord seat himself before the bed, in the same way he had done every day since they had arrived at the palace. He sighed, almost inaudibly and pulled the door silently shut behind him to give Glorfindel some privacy. He knew what he was trying to do, and he also knew that with Elrond in his present state of fever-induced delirium, there would be no reaching of his mind. He shook his head, and looked up to find his sons looking up at him sadly, guessing his thoughts. He remembered as he looked at them, his three most precious possessions, what they had been talking about before, and, with a glance at the closed door behind them, gestured for them to follow him. They made their way silently towards Thranduil's study, and once there, they filed in and stood in a line before his desk as he sat down: Legolas, the eldest of the three on his right, Lysandil in the middle, and Daromir on the left. Thranduil steepled his fingers underneath his chin and turned his gaze on each of his sons.

"My sons, you know, of course, of the message I received from Gwaihir this morning. Gandalf has sent us tidings of a council that is to be held in Imladris. Galadriel and Celeborn are appealing for not only an army, should it be needed, but also a small group of elite warriors, made up of elves and probably some rangers, who will be responsible for the retrieval of Vilya. I wish to send two of you to the council where Gandalf will select the group, and keep one of you here to lead our warriors, should there be a battle against the evil forces." He paused and none of the princes spoke, knowing there was more to come. And indeed there was, for after a few seconds, Thranduil continued. "Legolas, you are the eldest, and my heir. I know you will be eager to attend the council, but I need you here. Lysandil and Daromir, you will represent Mirkwood at the council." He looked to his eldest son, and saw a flash of pride shine in his eyes at being chosen as his father's right hand man. Lysandil and Daromir looked equally pleased at being chosen to represent their people at the council. He smiled, knowing that he had made the right decision. He had been worried that Legolas would take his decision the wrong way, thinking he had been rejected as a representative for Mirkwood at the council, rather than realising the honour he was receiving at being chosen to remain with his father. "I trust you are all satisfied and happy with my decision?"

"Yes, father." The answer was chorused by the smiling trio, and they each exchanged happy glances. Thranduil broadened his own smile, and leaned back in his chair, pleased that all had gone as he had planned. 

"Right, that's settled then. Lysandil and Daromir, you go and prepare for your departure tomorrow morning with an escort, and Legolas, I'd like you to stay here. I need to discuss some things with you." Legolas smiled at his brothers as they left, and they returned the gesture, each knowing that they would be able to speak together that evening. He turned back to his father who gestured for him to sit down, and he pulled up another chair to sit opposite him.

"I would like to thank you, father, for entrusting me with this honour."

"There was no uncertainty in my decision, Legolas. You deserve this. You need it even, for it will give you valuable experience in leadership. I trust you to do a good job in my name."

"I will not let you down father."

"I know. Now, there are many things I need to talk to you about…"

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A/N: I like getting reviews, and have changed my settings so anonymous views are welcome too! So go on, make my day and tell me what you think!


	8. Concerning the twins, an argument, and E...

Disclaimer: As in other chapters. Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

A/N: Hope you like this chapter! Please review and tell me if you like it! I haven't had that many reviews yet, so please help to bump that figure up a bit. Oh, and just for the record, I have noticed that some fanfic writers involve Elladan and Elrohir in a slash relationship. While this is all very well and good in their stories, I would like to make it clear that in my story, the love between the twins is completely, 100% brotherly!! There is nothing absolutely nothing slashy about their relationship!

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When Galwyn had followed Haldir, Arwen and Elrohir to where the Lord and Lady were waiting for them, she was surprised to find that they recognised her at once. Galadriel glanced at the owl above her, and called to it gently.

"Galwyn, can you come down here, please." Elrohir looked puzzled, and she could see Arwen scanning the trees for her, but her eyes passed over the snowy owl without so much as a flicker of recognition. Amused, she flew down to the talan, transforming in mid-air so that she landed lightly on her own feet. Arwen laughed and ran over to embrace her, but over the beautiful elf maiden's shoulder, Galwyn could see Elrohir in terse conversation with Galadriel, gesturing towards her. He was obviously not aware of who she was, or what she could do. Arwen released her, and she watched as Galadriel gave Elrohir a gesture to be silent.

"Elrohir, this is Galwyn. She is a mortal, an orphan. She was brought up by Radagast the brown in the forest of Fangorn, until they discovered that she had a very special power. She is the shape-shifter, the one chosen by the Valar to be blessed with the power, and she has been our charge for six years now. She will be accompanying you to the council that is to be held in Imladris, for she is your most valuable tool, a spy with impenetrable disguise." Galadriel explained.

Rather surprised, Elrohir's silver-grey eyes passed over her, taking in the tanned skin, high cheekbones, and the river of straight, shiny black hair. She was dressed in a white gown that made the most of her rather slender figure, accenting the curves she did have, and making her look more feminine. He knew, of course, of the existence of the shape-shifters, but all those he had met had been male. This one was very much a female. His gaze came to rest on the violet eyes that were so unusual for a mortal, though he had seen elves with eyes that colour, and to his surprise, she held his gaze fully, not looking away, though he noticed a flush appearing on her cheeks. He stepped forward,

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Galwyn. I am Elrohir, son of Elrond of Imladris." He bowed slightly to her, and took her hand to kiss. Her flush deepened and she felt her skin tingle as his lips touched her hand. Suddenly, she became angry with herself for having so little control, and she frowned, her eyes flashing and dark. This was the expression that met Elrohir as he returned his gaze to her face, and he stepped back in surprise, thinking that he had offended her. He looked to Arwen, and she shrugged, looking to Galwyn for some response to Elrohir's introduction. 

"Yes, I...er...know who you are. And I am glad to meet you." She looked to Celeborn and Galadriel. "May I be excused? I need to gather some things for our departure tomorrow."

"Of course." Galadriel answered, exchanging knowing glances with her husband. After she had left, Elrohir looked to his grandparents.

"Did I…?"

"No, not at all. She is just…tired. Think nothing of it." Celeborn interrupted, amused despite himself at the reaction of his charge towards his grandson.

"Elrohir, are you alright to leave tomorrow morning? We need to get the council underway as soon as possible. I will remain here with your sister, but Celeborn will be coming with you, Galwyn and the escort."

"That is fine. It was not a strenuous journey, though I believe the escort grew rather weary of my over-vigilance!"

"Well, one cannot be too careful in times such as these. I am sad that you will not be able to spend more time with us, but the situation, as you know, calls for immediate action."

"Of course. If you don't mind, grandmother, I must get some rest before tomorrow, so may I, too be excused?"

"Yes, of course. I will be there to see you off tomorrow morning. Rest well."

As he made along the dark paths, illuminated only by torches and the moonlight, towards his own talan, Elrohir felt his heart aching in pain at the absence of his brother. It had been many years since they had been in Lòrien, wandering the paths without a care, but now it was very much different. He felt as though there was a rope around his heart that was tugging at it, trying to pull it back to his twin. It grew worse with every day that passed, but he knew he had to grit his teeth and bear it. He stopped and leaned against a tree to support himself: he was obviously more drained than he had thought, and realised that the strain of burying his emotions was taking its toll on him. He raised a hand to his forehead and held it there for a moment, trying to regain his composure. "Elladan…father…" He murmured almost inaudibly and rubbed at his temples gently to ease the tension that had seized up his muscles.

"I am sorry about your father." A voice said from behind him, and Elrohir spun around in shock, for his elven hearing had detected no sound of any kind: not even an elf could move that quietly. He found himself looking at the girl from earlier, and he fought to stop his face from betraying his shock.

"Elrond has been very kind to me, and I don't intend to let his attack go unpunished." Strangely angered at her words, Elrohir did not reply for a moment, pushing himself upright and away from the tree.

"And what do you, a mortal woman, intend to do? It was your kind who led the attack on him." He hissed under his breath. Instantly a change came over the woman and her eyes flashed angrily. Clenching her fists, her face flushed and her eyes dark, almost indigo in colour, Galwyn advanced on the elf. As his silvery gaze met hers, Elrohir suddenly felt a pang of guilt at the hurt he saw displayed there.

"For you information, _Lord_ Elrohir, I am a half-elf, and a good deal more powerful than you I would wager, so you would do well not to anger me too much. Is it not good enough for you that your father, grandfather and grandmother, not to mention your sister too, give me their trust?" The anger dissipated from her eyes as she managed to regain her control. Her hands unclenched as she stepped away from him, the hurt she felt taking over her features. She shook her head sadly. "Do you know? One of the wisest things your father taught me was never to judge something by its appearance. I am glad I knew of that, for if I had not seen beyond your face, then I might have almost fooled myself into thinking that you had a spirit as beautiful." As she turned to leave, she murmured one word, so quiet that not even the elf would be able to hear it. _"Almost."_ She started to walk away quickly and was so wrapped up in her tangled emotions that she did not hear the running footsteps behind her. She spun round as she felt a hand grab her shoulder, finding herself looking at the elf.

"What do you want?" She asked wearily, not giving him the advantage of meeting her eyes.

"I wanted to apologise. I do not mean any insult towards you. I know it is no excuse, but at the moment, I am struggling to hold my emotions under control. I have to be strong for my sister. It is hard for me to be without…without my brother, and the worry for my father has manifested deep within me. I was wrong to take it out on you, who have done me no ill and meant only to comfort me. I hope you can forgive me."

"How can I be sure that you harbour no ill will towards me? I am a human woman after all." Elrohir winced as she flung his words back at him.

"Can you blame me for being wary of non-elves? My mother has left Middle Earth because of her attack. How can I be sure that my father will not leave these shores as a result of this attack, an attack that involved men? How can I be sure of whom to trust?" He asked heatedly. Galwyn said nothing for a moment, but merely looked at him. After a moment, she nodded.

"You are right, I cannot blame you. I would probably feel the same. But your words were wrong all the same." Elrohir began to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. "I can see you are suffering, all the worse, for you refuse do let your own emotion surface. No, I cannot blame you for your words, although they have caused me much hurt. I would be a hypocrite if I did not lend you a second chance. I forgive you your mistake." Elrohir smiled in relief, though his guilt was still clearly displayed in his eyes. To his surprise, she smiled back warmly, all her anger forgotten, and held her hand out to him.

"How about we start again?"

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Elladan was finding it hard to come to terms with how lonely he was feeling. He had never been parted from Elrohir for more than two days before, and it had been many times that length already. He could feel the bond between them pulling at his heart painfully, always at the forefront of his thoughts. He could not wait until the council, when his brother would return to him. And as if that was not enough, his sister wasn't there, and his father was lying, not far from death's door, in faraway Mirkwood, and he had been entrusted with the keeping of Imladris. He prayed to the Valar that nothing would happen that he could not deal with, for he was truly alone, without even the council of Glorfindel, his father's greatest friend, who was almost a second father to him and his siblings. He was presently leaning on the balcony of his room, looking out on the beautiful vista of his home. He sighed, hoping with all his heart that its beauty would remain forever clean of the darkness he knew was infiltrating Mirkwood. As he looked out over the balcony, he heard a knock at his door and calling out "Enter!" he turned round to see who it was. The dark-haired elf that poked his head around the door was that of his friend, Alandril.

"My Lord, I have received word from the border guards that a group of rangers is approaching, led by Estel. They are on their way directly here, and should arrive in a few minutes. I thought I had better inform you of their approach." Elladan smiled, and nodded his thanks.

"Thank you for coming out of your way to tell me that, Alandril. I appreciate it." The other elf bowed slightly and left. Elladan made his way out of his chambers and outside into the courtyard to wait for the arrival of his foster-brother, Estel, whose true name, Aragorn, son of Arathorn and the heir to the throne of Gondor, was known to very few. Estel's mother had entrusted his upbringing to Elrond as she lay on her deathbed, and Elrond had undertaken the task as though the mortal boy had been his own son, and his two sons embracing him as another brother. Arwen, who had been living in Lòrien for the 18 years Estel had been at Imladris before he had left to learn about the world by roaming it with the rangers, was the only one never to have met him, though of course they knew of each other. He was now 29, and a man truly worthy of his heritage. The return of his foster-brother was just what Elladan needed, if he could not have Elrohir just yet, and he mentally thanked the Valar for the small reprieve. Even as he did so, he heard the clatter of hooves on the road that led to the courtyard at the entrance to the palace of Imladris. He watched as the group of rangers, led by Estel, pulled to a halt and dismounted. He walked quickly over to the man and embraced him tightly, ignoring the generous amount of mud that coated the clothes of his foster-brother and that had managed to transfer onto his own robes. He laughed as he looked down at himself and when he met Estel's slate-blue eyes, he found that he was doing likewise.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, Estel!"

"And I you, dear Elladan. But where is Elrohir?"

"He has gone to Lòrien to accompany Arwen to where we know she will be as safe as possible. He will be returning soon." _Oh, hurry back to me, Elrohir…_

"And are you alright? I cannot remember you ever being separated for longer than a few days."

"I am…coping at least. You are right, never before have so many miles parted us for so long. Not in all these years. Perhaps that has been our mistake, for even now, I feel as though an important part of me is missing. We have basked too much in the bond that has linked us, and we must learn to cope without each other. That much I know, though it causes great pain." Estel nodded slowly, his eyes full of sorrowful understanding.

"It is in sad times, that such a bond as yours must be jeopardised. In a perfect world, you would never have to compromise it."

"Ai, that is true. But let us not dwell on it, brother. Send your men inside to get cleaned, rested and fed. I have been expecting you for some days, and have made the necessary preparations. Come, you and I have much to discuss." Together, they went inside the palace.

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A/N: I like getting reviews, and have changed my settings so anonymous views are welcome too! So go on, make my day and tell me what you think! The ones I have had have been great, thanks guys and please keep reviewing! Albinofrog88: it's not the slightest bit annoying to get more than one review from the same person! Quite the opposite! Just spent the whole afternoon watching the extended version of Fellowship. Have so much work to do! ARGH! Talk about bad time management!


	9. Concerning a fall

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

A/N: Just to remind you, the love between the twins is completely, 100% brotherly!! There is nothing absolutely nothing slashy about their relationship! Please review, as I take a lot of my valuable time writing these nice long chapters for you people!

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As she rode out of Lòrien on her horse Nimsul _white wind_, a beautiful white mare that had been a 16th birthday present from Celeborn, after saying her goodbyes to Arwen and Galadriel, Galwyn found herself riding behind Elrohir and Haldir, who was to be one of the elves representing Lòrien at the council. The group was riding at a gallop, and Galwyn found herself almost out of breath at with the constant battering of wind on her face and through her hair, although she found the feeling exhilarating. But the two elves seemed not to be effected by it: they seemed to be deep in conversation about something, although she could not hear what. She was glad that she too could ride, as the elves did, with no saddle or bridle, and as they slowed to a trot to cross a small stream, she whispered some elven words of praise and encouragement in Nimsul's ear, causing the horse to whinny in thanks. Several hours passed, and she spent them lost in thought. But after a while, she rode level with the two elves and they both turned to look at her, causing her to feel quite embarrassed, her cheeks flushing pink. Haldir laughed heartily.

"Galwyn, my friend, why do you blush?" He asked teasingly.

"Wouldn't you if people stared at you like that?" The elves exchanged glances, and then turned to look at her again, eyes wide as they stared her out even more than before.

"Stop it!" She implored as she felt her face flush an even deeper pink. Elrohir laughed lightly and Galwyn found herself watching him as he did so. She noticed how his eyes shone as he laughed, and she remembered how only the previous night they had shone with guilt as he had begged for her forgiveness at his harsh words. She told herself that she shouldn't feel awkward towards him, and that they had started afresh, but she couldn't look at him without feeling a raw mixture of emotions. When his gaze met hers, she willed herself to look away, but his eyes held hers, and she couldn't let go. She lost herself in the silvery orbs, and she felt understanding pass between them. They both smiled, and she knew that the awkwardness would go, and that they would be friends. She lost herself in her thoughts again, and the three rode along in companionable silence at the front of the train. Her thought train was broken with Haldir repeatedly calling her name, and she blinked, looking around for him in confusion, finally seeing him some distance behind her.

"What?" She asked irritably.

"In case you hadn't noticed, which obviously you hadn't, I was just going to tell you that we are stopping." She looked around and saw that the group had, indeed, stopped and that she was some distance ahead. She pulled Nimsul into a trot and turned to rejoin the rest of the group. Elrohir was stroking his horse's mane and feeding him a carrot. She watched him for a moment, before looking round to see Celeborn, spotting him some distance away, apparently lost in thought or meditation. She sat still for a moment, before turning round to dismount, jumping in surprise as she saw the dark-haired elf positioned at her side.

"That is a beautiful horse, Lady Galwyn." She smiled in pleasure at his words.

"Thank you. Nimsul was a present from Celeborn four years ago on my sixteenth birthday." She paused before continuing. "Lord Elrohir, please, call me Galwyn, I am not deserving of any title." Elrohir looked confused, then smiled.

"Only if you call me just Elrohir." She smiled back.

"Of course, _Elrohir_." She said putting a stress on his name.

"Glad we have that sorted out, _Galwyn_." He said with the same inflection. They smiled broadly at each other, and Galwyn looked with pleasure at the warmth in his eyes, all her previous awkwardness gone, and his cruel words from the previous night all but forgotten. She swung her legs round and went to dismount, but at that moment, a flock of birds burst noisily from the trees, causing Nimsul to rear up in fright at the sudden noise, throwing the girl off her back. Galwyn cried out in pain as she landed, winded and gasping for breath, and heard a sharp crack as her head knocked back against a stone; her right arm throbbing painfully from where she had jarred it against the ground trying to break her fall. Elrohir was by her side in an instant, propping her up into a sitting position, quickly followed by Haldir who had seen the horse buck in fear at the sudden movement and sound. He looked at her in horror, as she lay motionless on the ground. Her face was pale, and her mouth was pulled into a tight line as she fought the pain. Her vision was fuzzy as her head tried to clear, and she could briefly see one dark and one blond head in front of her before it all went black. Elrohir and Haldir cursed in unison as her eyes rolled back and she fainted. Trying not to touch her arm, Elrohir lent over and picked up the limp body.

"Haldir, quickly go and fetch Celeborn."

"Where is…"

"He's over there by the trees." The blond elf ran off to fetch the elf-Lord while Elrohir made his way over with Galwyn in his arms. He looked down at the pale face, and wondered at how vulnerable she looked. He watched as her eyelids flickered, and slowly opened. She blinked a few times, her eyes finally focussing on his. She was about to speak when the pain hit her and she winced, cursing under her breath.

"What happened?" She managed to get out.

"Your horse got a fright and threw you. Where do you hurt?"

"It feels like everywhere, but I think it's mainly my arm and my head. You can put me down, you know. I think I can walk. I must be terribly heavy."

"Not at all." Elrohir said truthfully. "And I think it's best if you don't walk just yet, you may have a concussion." At that moment, Celeborn came rushing over with Haldir, and the dark-haired elf gently placed the girl's body on the ground, kneeling to the left side of her to support her head on his knees. Celeborn smiled at her gently.

"What have you been doing to yourself, my dear?"

"I think I am probably the worst person to ask for I have no idea what happened." Celeborn laughed lightly, and gently picked up her right arm, being careful not to hurt it, but even the touch of his fingers on the swollen red skin caused her to wince.

"This will hurt, Galwyn, but I need to find out if it is broken or not." He touched her arm again and began his examination of it, prodding it and flexing it, all as gently as possible, but the pain was still excruciating, and Galwyn's eyes were tightly shut, tears flowing down her cheeks. She felt a hand take her left one, and saw Elrohir smiling encouragingly down at her. She forced herself to smile back, but one of Celeborn's movements touched a particularly sore spot, and she cried out at the pain, her eyes squeezed shut again.

"Ai! That hurts!" She moaned, and felt Elrohir begin to soothingly stroke her knuckles with his thumb, squeezing her hand gently in reassurance.

"I'm almost done, just hold on a moment longer…there. I'm finished." Celeborn sat back on his heels and looked at her gravely. "Well, the bones themselves are not broken, but they have moved out of place. I will set the bone now, but it will be many days before it heals completely, even with elvish medicine. I will fetch some herbs and leaves that I need to make a sleeping draught to save you the pain, and it will only take a few minutes. Haldir, come with me, and Elrohir, you stay here with her. Don't let her fall asleep, I need her to be awake when I administer the draught." The silver and blond haired elves went off into the trees to look for the ingredients and without moving, Elrohir called some of the escort over, and gave them orders to tie up the horses and boil some water. They were going to be here for some time he guessed. He looked down at Galwyn's pale face and squeezed her hand gently.

"How are you?"

"Let's just say that I have been better." She said with a grimace. Her eyes met his and she forced a smile. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being so nice."

"It's my pleasure."

"You don't have to, you know. I said I had forgiven you for yesterday." Elrohir frowned and looked rather hurt.

"I'm not doing this because I feel guilty." She groaned slightly as she moved her arm slightly, and then looked back at him.

"I'm sorry, I know. I'm not really thinking straight." He smiled and nodded.

"I don't blame you for being suspicious, but I am telling the truth."

"I know." They were silent for a moment, and Galwyn closed her eyes from the throbbing in her arm, trying to ignore it. She was just drifting off into sleep when she felt a tickling on her face and heard a voice softly calling her name. She opened her eyes slowly and realised the tickling was Elrohir's silky hair on her face as he leaned over her, trying to wake her. She blinked and looked up at him. He leant back again.

"I'm not supposed to let you fall asleep, so don't do that again." He said in a mock stern voice, and she giggled softly.

"Yes, sir."

"Galwyn, this is serious!"

"Sorry." She kept a straight face for a moment and then burst out laughing at his serious expression. After a moment she realised that laughing did in face cause her rather a lot of pain in her head, and she stopped abruptly. "Ai! My head!" Elrohir, who had been looking rather annoyed that she was laughing at him, suddenly remembered she had bumped her head. He laughed as well, and saw her look annoyed.

"That's not fair!"

"You were laughing at me!"

"Only because you looked so funny, sort of grave and serious. But I hurt myself!"

"Well, there you go. That is your punishment for laughing at me."

"If I hadn't hurt my arm, I would punch you right now! Lucky for you I cannot hit very well with my left arm."

"Believe me, I am thanking the Valar for that piece of luck, right now." She glared at him and he laughed again. After a moment she laughed too, only stopping when it hurt her head again, causing Elrohir to laugh even harder.

"That's not funny!"

"Indeed it isn't, Elrohir. It is very serious indeed." Celeborn's voice was stern, but his eyes held a teasing sparkle. "Right, I must do this now. Galwyn, I want you to drink this, all of it." She obliged, and after a moment, her eyelids drooped and she fell unconscious. Elrohir gently placed her head on the ground, stood up, and walked over to where Haldir was watching. The blond elf said nothing as his friend approached, but the brunette could see his eyes were filled with worry. He put a hand on his arm.

"Come, let us see to our horses." They walked off to where Celebmir and Haldir's horse, Mor'runya _black flame_, a splendid black stallion that had been gifted to him by the Lady of Lòrien for his services as both a guardian and a border guard.

"So what do you think of our Galwyn?" Haldir asked innocently.

"Well, she is very nice."

"Of course, I know that. But what do you _think_ of her?"

"Haldir! What are you suggesting I say?"

"Just be honest."

"I think…I'm not going to tell you."

"Got something to hide then?"

"No! I…I don't know! We have only just met!"

"I knew I loved Ralia the moment I saw her."

"That's different. Galwyn and I didn't exactly get off to a good start."

"Why not?" 

Rather reluctantly, Elrohir explained about their argument the previous evening. He was rather surprised, and angry, when Haldir punched him in the arm.

"Ai! What did you do that for?"

"Because that was a horrible thing to say. And I would have hit you if I had been her."

"That's true. I think I would have done as well. I don't know what I was thinking." He laughed wryly, but Haldir just looked at him gravely.

"Is it Elladan? How are you coping without him?" He saw Elrohir's eyes darken, and the dark-haired elf sighed deeply.

"Yes. It is hard, you know, when a part of you is missing. It's like trying to function without an arm or something; only, it hurts more. I feel as though my heart wants to burst out of my chest and run back to him."

"It must be awful. I feel so sorry for you." Elrohir's eyes suddenly flashed silver again.

"Do not pity me, Haldir! I would go through this pain a million times before I would give Elladan up! The bond we share is so precious to me that I am willing to endure this pain." Haldir looked at him and nodded, but did not speak. It was Elrohir who broke the silence. "If you must know, when I talk to her, I can almost forget my pain." Haldir smiled, and giggled like a girl at his triumph, so that he didn't hear the single word that the son of Elrond said as he walked away: _"Almost."_

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A/N: Well here is another chapter, not that you people deserve it, it's not like you have reviewed or anything. I am going to move it to the R section if nobody protests; otherwise I will keep it PG13 for a bit longer.


	10. Concerning a song

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

A/N: The song is by Norah Jones, and I think it is possibly one of THE most beautiful songs. To fit it in with the setting I have had to substitute a few words of the song: I have used 'stars' instead of 'bus' and 'treetops' instead of 'tin roof'. Please read and review!

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Blinking groggily, Galwyn waited for the world to come into focus before she tried to sit up. She put a hand to her head and groaned softly as the memory of what had happened came back to her. She looked down and saw her right arm was tightly bound with white gauze and resting in a sling. It still throbbed as much as it had done before, but she knew that Celeborn would have done as good a job as possible on it. He was sitting about ten paces away with Haldir and Elrohir, obviously waiting for her to wake up. It was still sunny and bright, so she knew she couldn't have been asleep for very long. She tried to stand up and promptly fell over, landing rather heavily on her rear.

"Ai!" She cried unhappily. Immediately, the three elves turned round and rushed over to her. Celeborn shook his head.

"Galwyn, dear, you shouldn't try to stand up, the sleeping draught won't have properly worn off yet."

"Yes, I noticed that." She said dryly as she saw the smiles on the other two elves' faces. Celeborn helped her to her feet and tenderly supported her around the waist as though she was still the child he had first taken into his care, even though she was only slightly shorter than he. They walked, albeit rather unevenly, to Nimsul, and the silver-haired elf lifted her onto her back as though she weighed no more than a feather. Once he was sure she would not fall, Celeborn called over to the other two elves who were hovering nearby. They came over immediately and the Lord of Lòrien regarded them both, carefully. Suddenly, a thought came to his mind, and he smiled inwardly.

"As you may have realised, she cannot ride with her arm like that, not at the pace we need to go at. So, Elrohir, you ride with her on Nimsul, and Haldir, you look after Elrohir's horse."

"Yes, of course." They chorused, and Haldir made his way to Mor'runya and led him over to Celebmir. He fashioned a bridle out of a long piece of rope and fitted it over the horse's head, whispering elven words in it's ear to calm it, for it was unfamiliar with the feel of a rope. He then attached a longer piece of rope to the bridle that would allow him to hold the horse while riding at the same time. Elrohir looked up at Galwyn as she sat, pale and tired looking, on her horse. He appeared to be deciding something, but then he quickly mounted and sat behind her on Nimsul, just as he had sat with Arwen on the way to Lòrien. He leant forward and spoke in her ear.

"I'm going to have to hold onto you, if you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. I don't particularly want to fall off again, that's for sure." He laughed at her words, and slid an arm around her body, his other hand entwining in Nimsul's mane. She closed her eyes briefly at the feel of his arm round her, but quickly came to her senses; aware that Celeborn's eyes were on her. He smiled innocently at her, but she guessed that Celeborn had more than one reason for choosing Elrohir rather than Haldir to ride with her. She shook her head at him and glared, but he merely smiled all the more, turned, called to the other elves to remount, and then got onto his own horse. The party began to move off again, and Galwyn quickly settled back into the rhythm of riding. She found being pressed against Elrohir's hard body was something of a distraction, and she couldn't seem to put her thoughts in any proper order. His arm round her body held her tightly against him, and she was surprised at how safe she felt: she knew implicitly that he would not let her fall. She sighed quietly and stopped fighting her feelings, allowing herself to become aware of how natural it felt to be as close to him as she was. But after a moment, her head took back control from her heart, and she chastised herself for being so silly. She had had love affairs before, fleetingly believing that each time it was love, and luckily finding out it wasn't before she let it go too far. And even though she and Elrohir had not gotten off to the best of starts, she couldn't help but remember how she had felt when she first saw him and recognised him from her visions in the mirror. Neither of them spoke, both wrapped up in their own thoughts, and time passed by in what felt like an instant. The sky turned pink, then purple, and finally, stars began to appear. When it became apparent that the horses needed to rest, and the road ahead could no longer be distinguished, Celeborn called the group to a stop, and they began to set up a camp and prepare some food. Elrohir jumped down and lifted her off; his hands holding her tightly round the waist. They smiled awkwardly at each other than hurriedly went their separate ways. The preparation was done quickly and efficiently under the Lord of Lorien's command, and, having eaten a considerable amount, Galwyn found herself unable to keep her eyes open, and decided to retire. She laid her bed-roll out as well as she could with only one arm, and proceeded to divulge herself, very awkwardly, of her outer garments, leaving her in just her leggings and short tunic. Her head was barely down when she was asleep.

Elrohir, sitting by the fire with Haldir, watched her go, checking to see she did not stray too far from the group, and that she was coping with only one arm. Satisfied that she was, and knowing that her proud nature would probably refuse his help anyway, he merely smiled absent-mindedly and recommenced his conversation with Haldir, although his mind was far away from the subject of debate. Riding with Galwyn, sitting with him just as Arwen had, had made him think painfully of his sister, and that had led to the familiar pain in his chest that thinking about Elladan always gave him. They had not spoken, but the silence had been mutual; each lost in their own thoughts, content to bask in the silence, and yet…He recalled for a moment how young she had looked when she was lying unconscious in his arms. He was an elf of many centuries; there was not much he hadn't seen, and yet she, a mortal, possessed a mere twenty years. She was so innocent of the evil that lay in the world, as yet undiscovered by her, and he felt a longing to stop her from finding it, to protect her from it so that she might retain that dear innocence. She intrigued him, he knew that much. She was so unlike the elf maidens he usually came across who were so serene and calm. Galwyn was as fiery tempered as a dragon, and she was not afraid to speak her mind. Doubtless she was powerful, her little demonstration in Lòrien had certainly proved that, and yet, there was something very understated about her approach to her powers. She had not mentioned them since their argument, and she certainly hadn't transformed since, or not that he knew of. In some ways, she reminded him painfully of Asriel, an elf-maiden who he had believed himself in love with, but while he was working up the courage to ask her to bond with him, she was in her chambers with a (now ex) friend of his. Asriel too, had never been shy of speaking her mind, but then, she had never been shy of much.

Excusing himself abruptly from his conversation with Haldir, he decided to go for a walk to clear his head, carefully avoiding the sleeping bodies around the fire.

A few hours later, Galwyn awoke; sitting up immediately, rather dazed, trying to figure out what had awoken her. Her ears quickly picked up the sound of a male voice, softly singing somewhere nearby, and, curious, she listened silently to the words, her heart wrenching at the tenderness and emotion the singer possessed. His voice touched her soul, and she could feel it deep inside her, speaking to her. She was unable to stop listening to it; it drew her with it as though she was stuck in a current, moving her like no song ever had before.

Come away with me in the night 

_Come away with me_

_And I will write you a song_

_Come away with me to the stars_

_Come away where they can't tempt us_

_With their lies_

_I want to walk with you_

_On a cloudy day_

_In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high_

_So won't you try to come_

_Come away with me and we'll kiss_

_On a mountaintop_

_Come away with me_

_And I'll never stop loving you_

_And I want to wake up with the rain_

_Falling through the treetops_

_While I'm safe there in your arms_

_So all I ask is for you_

_To come away with me in the night_

_Come away with me_

When the song ended, there was nothing but silence, and, unable to see the owner of the voice, she lay back down, and fell asleep dwelling on the words of the song. Unseen, sitting in the branches of a tree not far away, his gaze fixed on the stars, the singer leant back against the tree trunk, and closed his eyes, letting exhaustion take over him.

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The next morning, Galwyn woke with the memory of the song and its singer as fresh in her mind as if it had happened only a minute ago. The words of the song were imprinted on her mind, and she found herself humming the tune of it unconsciously as she attempted, unsuccessfully, to roll up her blankets with one hand. The camp was buzzing with activity, and she could see Haldir over by the horses. Celeborn was sitting by a tree reading what looked like it could be a letter. Elrohir was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered where he had gone. She turned back to the task in hand, and cursed under her breath as the blankets unrolled for the fifth time. She jumped as she heard a voice behind her.

"Need some help?" She turned round and saw Elrohir standing a few feet away. His face was even paler than usual, and he had dark shadows beneath his eyes. His hair was unkempt and had leaves sticking out of it. His eyes, rather than shining silver as they usually did, were a dull grey.

"Elrohir! You look awful!" He looked surprised, then smiled wryly and ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few of the leaves which fluttered to the ground.

"Thanks a lot for the compliment. Remind me to ask you for another one when I'm feeling low!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. But where have you been?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular. I didn't sleep that well, that's all."

"Is it…is it Elladan?"

"Among other things, yes. He occupies a lot of my thoughts, but it is not so bad as it was."

"I wish I could do something to help."

"Don't worry. You do."

"I do? Like what?"

"Like trying to do things that you obviously can't! I've been watching you try to roll those up for ten minutes now!" He smiled and laughed lightly, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes. She decided not to comment, and just held the blankets out to him, a mock angry expression on her face.

"Well you do them then if you are so clever!"

"Of course." He deftly rolled them up and placed them neatly back in the pack. As she watched him, the words of the song came back to her, and she began humming again as she gathered up her other things. At the sound, Elrohir's head snapped up sharply.

"What are you singing?" She looked at him in surprise.

"I…don't know. I just heard someone singing it last night, and thought it was beautiful. It sounded so heartfelt and sad…" She stopped abruptly, seeing the odd expression on his face. "It doesn't matter, I just thought it was nice."

"Oh, right." He looked at her quizzically for a minute, reading her expression. But finding nothing odd there, he got back on with the task in hand.

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A/N: So do you like? If so, please review!


	11. Concerning a reunion

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

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The group from Lórien were the last to arrive at the council, for, although they were closer, Lysandil and Daromir had set out with their group a few days before them from Mirkwood. Elrohir had been steadily growing less and less unhappy, as he knew he was coming closer to his twin. Galwyn noticed he smiled a great deal more, and he was a lot more light-hearted, joking around with Haldir. When the group rode into the courtyard outside the palace in Imladris, Elladan was there waiting on the balcony. He and Elrohir saw each other immediately and cried out each other's names. Elrohir jumped off Nimsul, helped Galwyn down, and ran across to his brother, who was making his way down the steps at a run, his long robes billowing out behind him. When they met in the middle of the courtyard, they embraced as though they feared they would lose each other if they let go. When each twin looked into his brother's face, he could see the streams of joyful tears running down it.

"Oh, Elladan! I don't know how much longer I could have lasted without you!"

"And I, dear brother! Sometimes I felt my loss so strongly I could barely breath."

"But we are together again now." Elrohir whispered, looking deep into the eyes that were identical to his own.

"Thank Elbereth. But I fear you will be leaving me again soon, this time for longer."

"Yes, I have felt it too, and the thought chills my heart."

"We must just make the most of the time we have. Come, we must do our duties." They broke apart, and stood side-by-side regarding the group. Celeborn had dismounted, and was making his way over to embrace Elladan. Haldir and Galwyn, too, had dismounted and were standing together watching the reunion. When she looked at the twins, Galwyn fought to suppress a gasp of shock. She had known they would look alike, but seeing them together, flawless mirror images of each other, was still a surprise, for there was not one difference between them. Watching Elrohir reunited with his twin, and seeing how joyful he was had filled her eyes with sympathetic tears that she had hastily brushed away before Haldir could see them. She wished inwardly that she had a sibling that meant so much to her, but she knew that wishing such things was futile. Under the twins' and Celeborn's command, the escort dispersed to be fed and watered and rested before the council the next day. There was to be a feast to welcome all the participants that night. Soon, Galwyn and Haldir were the only ones of the escort left with in the courtyard. Elladan went over to embrace the blond elf, exchanging tender words of greeting, before turning to Galwyn, who blushed shyly under his gaze, so familiar, and yet so strange. Elrohir walked over to Galwyn and took her hand, leading her over to his brother, his eyes shining and a broad smile on his face.

"Galwyn, allow me to introduce my brother, Elladan." She looked down and curtseyed gracefully.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Elladan; Elrohir speaks so much of you."

"Only nice things I hope!" Elladan laughed, and smiled warmly at her; the smile an exact copy of Elrohir's. "And please, call me Elladan." He looked at her injured arm. "You are hurt?"

"A fall, that is all. Nothing very serious. Celeborn assures me I shall be right again in a few days. He told me I could probably take the sling off today."

"That is good news."

"Galwyn is the shape-shifter, and she is to accompany the group who will hopefully retrieve Vilya. She will be a valuable asset to us indeed." Elrohir explained, eliciting another flush from the young mortal. He gently squeezed her hand, which he had not yet dropped, in reassurance. Elladan nodded thoughtfully, looking from his brother, to her, and then back to Elrohir, looking him dead in the eyes. Something passed between them without being spoken, and after a few moments, Elladan turned to her again and smiled. 

"You must be very tired. Please, come and take some rest so that you may be recovered for the feast tonight. You have your own quarters here, I know. But, please, allow us to escort you there." The four of them made their way into the palace, and Galwyn looked around the familiar surroundings with pleasure. Imladris was easily as beautiful as Lórien, but in a very different way, and it was a beauty she felt more at home in than amongst the mallorn trees in the Golden Wood. She walked with Haldir, while the twins walked ahead of them, heads bowed together, deep in animated conversation. When they reached the wing where Galwyn, and Arwen, when they were there, had their quarters, Elladan, Haldir and Elrohir excused themselves and made their way to their own quarters.

Galwyn went into her room, basking in the familiar surroundings, and sat down on her bed. Unconsciously, her thoughts turned to Elrohir. She smiled as she remembered how he had taken her hand to introduce her to Elladan, and how happy they had both been to be together again. She remembered the journey spent with Elrohir, and how she had got to know more about him than before; how his eyes shone when he laughed, how the muscles in his arms tensed round her when she fell asleep against him so she wouldn't fall, how he teased her when he and Haldir ganged up on her. She put her hands to her face, and realised that her eyes were wet with tears. She could come so close to him, and yet, he was always out of reach. Be his friend, and nothing more. For a few moments, she just let her sadness take over her, and the tears flowed freely. She cried silently, and thoroughly, letting all her emotions out; both dwelling in self-pity, and chastising herself for being so stupid. It was better to be his friend than nothing at all. When her tears had dried on her face, she stood up and walked over to her mirror to look at herself. She gasped in shock: her eyes were red and puffy and the trails of her tears had made streaks through the dust that had coated her face from all the riding. Her thick eyelashes were all stuck together in clumps and her hair was unkempt. Outside, the bell rang calling the guests to begin getting ready for the feast, and she looked at herself again in horror. She had to get ready, and fast! She rushed into her bathroom, where a bath had already been run for her in preparation, but that was somewhat cooler than was probably intended, as she had not got in it straight away. But it was better than nothing, and she sunk into it gratefully, soaping the travel grime off herself, and washing her hair. When she was done, she wrapped a soft blue towel around herself and went back into her bedroom, going to her wardrobe. What was she going to wear?

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Haldir had made his way to his chambers, leaving Elladan and Elrohir alone. As they walked down the corridors to their own rooms, Elladan looked quizzically at his brother.

"So tell me about the girl: Galwyn." As he had expected, his brother launched into a blow by blow account of their journey, their meeting, and even their argument. The elder twin smiled thoughtfully to himself, and a plan formed in his mind. His smiled deepened but he waited till his brother had finished.

"So what do you think of her?"

"Elladan! You sound just like Haldir!"

"Well?"

"She is very nice, and we are…friends. That's all."

"And you don't feel for her any more than that?"

"I…no."

"Well, that's lucky for me."

"What? Why?"

"Because I think she is lovely, and fully intend to get to know her better." He smiled in triumph as his twin rose to the bait.

"No! You can't!"

"Why not? You said you didn't feel for her more than as a friend."

"I…she's…she's not your type!"

"Well, I'll take a chance. You never know…"

"But, Elladan…"

"But nothing. She is your friend, so obviously we will get on. And it is not like you have feelings for her, so stop complaining. Do I have your blessing?"

"No! I mean…I think she is already in love with someone else, someone in Lórien." 

"Oh yes?"

"Yes."

"She told you that?"

"Um…yes?"

"Alright. Enough. Stop lying!"

"I'm not!"

"Rubbish! Elrohir, you're my brother. I practically know you better than you know yourself. I saw through you a long time ago."

"I'm not hiding anything from you!"

"I can see through you like a window. I saw it in your eyes the moment I saw you look at her."

"You were just playing with me?"

"Of course. I knew you wouldn't tell me the truth, so I had to get it out of you another way."

"Elladan, that's cruel!" The older twin smirked sheepishly.

"It worked though, didn't it?" Elrohir punched him lightly on the arm.

"If only I could be angry at you!"

"But you can't! Such a shame." He sighed dramatically. Then his expression became more composed. "How serious are you?"

"I don't know. Serious enough to know I don't want you to have her!"

"Ouch! Does she know?"

"No."

"Does she reciprocate?"

"I don't know! Promise me you won't interfere?"

"Of course. Have I ever done in the past?" Elrohir raised an eyebrow and Elladan laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. "Alright, I promise!"

"Thank you."

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Galwyn looked critically at her reflection in the mirror. She sighed; that was as good as she was going to get. She had chosen an ivory coloured silk gown, very much like the one she had been given when she first arrived in Lórien, though she did not remember it. It fitted snugly over her top half down to her waist, and then hung in soft folds to the ground. It had long sleeves that flared out at the elbow and hung to the floor. The dress was trimmed at the neckline and hem with purple ribbon the same colour as her eyes, and there was ribbon of the same colour criss-crossed down to her elbows on the sleeves. There was also a purple girdle around her waist that hung down almost to the floor. She was wearing a pair of soft, purple shoes and had left her vigorously combed hair loose, hanging around her face and down her back. There were sparkling earrings in her ears, and a pearl necklace at her throat. Celeborn had come by to check over her arm and she had been allowed to take it out of the sling, though it was still tightly bandaged. He had told her not to transform while it was in a sling, as her new form would also be weak in the respective limb, but, knowing she had to keep her skill practised, he had given her permission to transform again. The bell rang to call the guests to the hall, and satisfied that she had finished, she walked quickly over to her door, and pulled it open, colliding with a dark haired figure with his hand raised to knock at the door. It was Elrohir, and his initial expression of surprise soon turned to one of shock as he looked at her. She waited a few moments, drinking in how fair he looked in the silver tunic and pale blue shirt and leggings he was wearing with soft black boots. She noticed he was wearing a silver circlet on his dark hair that was pulled behind his ears with thin braids. She lost herself for a moment, then raised an eyebrow and cleared her throat.

"Um…Elrohir?" His eyes refocused on hers, and suddenly his expression of surprise deepened.

"You knew it was me?"

"Of course. Who else would you be?"

"Only my identical twin! How did you know it was me?"

"Because it is you!"

"Obviously, but how? Virtually nobody can tell us apart."

"Well, I don't know. I just knew it was you."

"Wow." There was silence for a few moments, and then Galwyn spoke again.

"Is there some reason you are here?" The elf blushed and she giggled inwardly, this was not something she had seen before.

"I…um…came to escort you to the hall." She smiled gently, suppressing the urge to throw her arms around him and not let go.

"How kind."

"Shall we?" He smiled invitingly, and held his arm out to her. She took it and together they walked towards the hall. As he looked at the figure beside him, Elrohir could barely contain his happiness. Now that he was reunited with Elladan, his mind was able to think more clearly, and he had realised just how much he had enjoyed her company, and how she, and only she, had been able to take his mind off his pain. He hadn't been able to believe his eyes when she had opened the door. It was as though he was seeing her for the first time, and he had realised just how beautiful she was. He thought wryly that of course, Elladan, who was seeing her for the first time, would have been able to appreciate this, but he, had been seemingly blind to it for all this time, wrapped up in his own turmoil. Her hand was warm on his arm, and her smile, when it turned on him, warmed his heart. He reached up and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Elrohir? Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh yes, I'm fine. More than fine, in fact." He smiled at her, and as she smiled back, and he chastised himself for taking so long to realise what was right in front of him. "You look beautiful, by the way." Immediately, Galwyn's face flushed a deep pink, and she looked at the floor.

"Thank you." She looked up and met his eyes, losing herself once more in his silvery gaze. Before they knew it, they had reached the hall. 

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A/N: So do you like? If so, please review!


	12. Concerning a celebration and something e...

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

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The congregation in the hall was impressive, and the three groups of elves were easily distinguishable from each other, the Imladris elves more than the others with their dark hair, but all so very fair. Galwyn felt rather overwhelmed. Even though she had lived among elves for six years, and attended many feasts and gatherings, she didn't think she had ever seen so many together at one time. The rangers were also present, standing in a group together. The only females in the room seemed to be those from Imladris, but there were still many, all currently engaged in conversations with various elves and men. As she entered with Elrohir, many eyes turned to look in her direction, and their curious gaze became more questioning as they realised that she, too, was not an elf. She hung her head in self-consciousness, and it was not until Elrohir led her over to her seat that she looked up again. Standing in front of her was the wizard Gandalf and she smiled in pleasure at seeing him, although his presence was a painful reminder of the reason why so many elves were gathered there. He sat beside her, and told her all he knew of Elrond's health, and the trouble and evil that was brewing in Dol Guldur. Elrohir, having already heard it, merely stood beside them, listening vaguely, paying more attention to Galwyn than anything else. Elladan entered the hall as he watched, flanked by the two younger princes of Mirkwood, Lysandil and Daromir. Elrohir, who had not seen the princes for many years, excused himself and went over to greet them, embracing them warmly. Haldir came in next, and he was drawn into the group of friends, all talking animatedly about anything other than the reason they were all there. After a moment, another figure joined the group, and Galwyn was pleasantly surprised to see it was Estel, whom she had met on numerous occasions. She liked him very much, and knew as much of his past as he did, indeed, had often counselled him, for although there were several years between them, he often found the presence of a mortal woman comforting, for it was something he had not experienced since the death of his mother.

As Gandalf went over to speak to someone else, Galwyn was left alone at the table and she watched the group of the twins, Estel, Haldir and two other blond elves who looked like they might have been twins as well. Elladan appeared to be gesturing at her to come over, and so she did so, rather self-consciously. The introductions were made, and she found herself subjected to the friendly gazes of the two princes. Up close, she could see that, while very similar in appearance, there were differences between them, while Elladan and Elrohir were completely alike. They were also both captivatingly fair, with hair the colour of spun gold and eyes of the deepest blue she had ever seen. Indeed, they could have easily rivalled Arwen herself in beauty. But, as though she was immune to it, she found herself unaffected by their beauty. She smiled back at them, and allowed herself to be engaged in their animated conversation, but all the while her eyes sought out the dark hair of Elrohir. When the guests were called to the meal, she found herself sitting, much to the envy she was sure, of just about every maiden in the room, between the younger prince, Daromir, and Elladan. Lysandil sat opposite her, and Elrohir was next to him, opposite his brother. Gandalf sat with Celeborn at the head of the table, directing the proceedings, which were to be the last night of revelry for many of the guests for a long time. She spent the meal in conversation with Daromir, and found him to be a very lively elf, obviously a lot younger than many of them there, and obviously very proud of the responsibility that had been lent to him. He told her all about his homeland, Mirkwood, where she had never been, and answered her questions with detailed answers. Galwyn felt herself carried along in the current of his enthusiasm and began to enjoy herself, almost forgetting the reason she was in Imladris. She was oblivious; also, to the strange looks Elrohir was sending across the table at her. When the meal ended, she accepted Daromir's offer for the first dance, and found that he was a very good dancer, not that she had ever come across an elf who was particularly bad, but it was still a pleasure to dance with him, and she began to forget the questioning and jealous looks that targeted her from around the hall.

From where he was standing with his brother, Elrohir looked at the dancing couple with carefully controlled jealousy.

"They make an attractive couple, don't they?"

"What?" Elladan asked curiously.

"She is so dark, with her tanned skin and black hair, and Daromir is so pale and golden. They are very pleasing to look at, do you not think?"

"I think someone is getting a bit jealous."

"Don't patronise me, Elladan, you are about two hours older than me."

"I'm not. I just think that you need to tell her how you feel, or you will just end up getting hurt again."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing, except that you need to make a move." He watched as Daromir, laughing and smiling, whirled his partner around the room. "Before someone else does." Elrohir raised an eyebrow, but did not comment, his eyes never leaving the raven-haired girl in the ivory dress.

After dancing many times with the Daromir, who seemed to have an endless supply of energy, Galwyn excused herself and went outside onto the balcony. There were some steps that led down to the gardens, and she went down them, carefully picking up the hem of her gown so that it would not get dirty on the ground. She noticed a long stone seat underneath a white blossom tree, and she made her way over to it, the sounds form the hall becoming more faint. As she sat down, the scent of the tree hit her and she sighed in pleasure, drinking it in. A gust of wind sang through the tree and several petals dropped down onto her. Being in Imladris again was bringing back so many fond memories, and it saddened her deeply to think of how cruelly its master, Elrond, had been treated, and how there was an evil spreading that threatened the beauty that surrounded her. The moon, which had been hidden behind a cloud, broke through, and its light bathed all in its glow with a silvery hue. She almost laughed out loud in pleasure, but was suddenly alerted to the fact she was not alone by a slight movement behind her. She stood up and spun round, finding herself, for the second time that evening, face to face with Elrohir. He looked shocked to see her, and stopped in his tracks.

"Galwyn! I was not expecting to find you here. I am sorry, I will go." He made as if to leave, but stopped when he heard her speak.

"Please! Don't go. I was just having a break from the dancing and getting a breath of fresh air." He smiled and gestured towards the seat.

"May I?"

"Of course, be my guest." He sat down on the seat beside her, and for several moments, neither spoke, just happy to be in the other's company, admiring the beauty of the surroundings. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see that he too had been bathed in silver, so that his skin almost matched the colour of his eyes. She wondered if the moon had touched her, too, with its silvery fingers and painted her the same colour. Slowly, she turned round to face him, and found he was looking at her, his eyes boring into hers. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He closed his eyes and sighed, and she wondered what he was thinking. He repeated the process again and this time, he did speak.

"Galwyn, I…there's something…I…" He stopped immediately as he heard the sound of voices not far away and they both turned to look in the direction of the of the sounds. But the proprietors were not visible, and they looked back at each other with a smile. But the voices came again, louder and clearer this time, and they very quickly wiped the smiles off their faces.

_"Elbereth! Did you see that woman?"_ That was a female voice, and one Elrohir recognised immediately as that of Asriel. He took Galwyn's hand and stood up.

"Come, let us leave. You don't want to hear this." She looked up at him and her eyes flashed darkly. She did not move, and Elrohir made to go and find the owner's of the voices and stop them. But her voice held him still.

"Don't move."

"Who does she think she is? A human no less! Dancing with the prince of Mirkwood! It is a mockery, that is for sure."

_"Indeed. She was seated at the head table as well. Did you see that?"_ This voice was male, and unfamiliar to Elrohir.

_"Yes, I did. What were the Lords thinking when they put her there? It's one thing having the rangers there, we know what they do, but her?"_

_"Maybe she has some purpose being here, something we do not know? "_

_"A mortal woman with a purpose? When did you last see one of those?" _The voice laughed cruelly, and the other person joined in. _"She has no place here."_ It finished darkly.

That was the last straw for Galwyn, and, her eyes already pricking with tears, she stood up and began to run towards the woods at the bottom of the hill. Elrohir ran after her and took hold of her arm, his heart breaking as he saw the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"Galwyn, don't do this! Don't listen to them! They are wrong!"

"Just let me go, Elrohir! Please, just let me go…" There was desperation in her voice, and he could do nothing but let her go, his own eyes threatening to shed tears as he remembered his own words in their argument. He walked slowly back to the seat and sat down heavily, his head in his hands. He was no better then them. He stood up, and began to run down to the bottom of the hill, not knowing what he was going to say, only knowing that he had to find her.               

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When she had got away from Elrohir, Galwyn had just run, run deep into the woods without a backward glance. Once deep inside, she had transformed into a bird, and flown up into one of the trees, before transforming back into her own form, leaning against the trunk of the tree in a tight ball, sobbing into her knees. How cruel and dismissive those voices had been, but she had known even as she heard them, as she knew now, that what they had said had been the truth. She had no place amongst elves, let alone with their lords and princes. She was a mortal; she had no parents. And she knew, most deeply and hurtfully of all, that she had no chance with the one person she cared about.

It did not take Elrohir long to find her path, for he had been taught tracking by the Dúnedain, the best there were, and in her haste, she had not exactly cared about leaving tracks. But all of a sudden, the tracks stopped, and Elrohir looked about himself to see where she could have possibly gone. He heard a slight noise from above, and looked up, suddenly seeing her from between the gaps in the leaves. She hadn't seen him yet, and he waited a moment before calling out to her, his voice soft so as not to startle her.

"Galwyn? Please come down." He heard an immediate movement between the branches, and knew she was looking down for him.

"No. I can't."

"Neither can you stay up there forever." There was no answer to this, so he continued. "Please, Galwyn?"

"Why?"

"Because you are angry, and hurt, and not safe up there."

"I'm not angry. They were speaking the truth; I can't argue with it."

"The truth? How can you say that?"

"Because that's what it is. I am no more worthy to be among you than one of the men who caused this in the first place."

"How can you say that? When you yourself were the one who first refuted it?"

"I was wrong. You were right all along." Elrohir flinched at her words, but did not know what to say in return.

"If I was right, then why would I be so concerned about you right now?" He asked heatedly, and was answered with silence. Suddenly, he heard a movement behind him, and spun round to find her standing behind him, her eyes red, and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of emotions. She looked more vulnerable and heart-achingly beautiful than he had ever seen her, the moonlight playing on her hair and shining on the streaks of tears on her face. She spoke quietly, and resignedly.

"I don't know."

His eyes shone with an expression of relief and he closed the gap between them until it was only a few feet.

"They weren't speaking the truth, Galwyn."

"How do you know that?"

"Because if they were, then why would I be here?" He looked her in the eyes, and found the hurt there, shining back at him. "And if they were, then I certainly wouldn't do this." He stepped forward and took her face between his hands, his eyes searching hers, before he bent his head to hers and brushed his lips over hers. He could feel her body tense up in shock, and she stepped back immediately, her eyes full of confusion.

"What…what are you doing?"

"What do you think?"

"But…"

"No buts, Galwyn. I've wanted to do that for some time now."

"You have?"

"Yes."

"But…" He raised an eyebrow and she let out a shaky laugh, looking down at the ground. He reached out and raised her chin so that she was looking at him, and was shocked to see her cheeks shining with fresh tears.

"Why are you crying?" She did not answer for a moment, but just stood there. Slowly, she took a deep breath in, and looked up at him.

"Because I've wanted you to do that for some time now." She whispered, her eyes never leaving his. He smiled shakily, and lowered his face to hers again, resting his forehead against hers to look into her eyes that were now shining with joy, like his own he knew. After what felt like an eternity, their lips met again, and this time they clung to each other, not wanting to let go, their lips colliding gently at first, then with more force as the kiss deepened.

It was some time before they broke apart, their breathing short and shallow as they looked at each other, tender smiles on their faces, each hardly daring to believe what had just happened. Elrohir held out a hand to her, and she took it, their fingers instantly twining together on contact. She took a deep breath and nodded, and together, they made their way back up to the hall, where the dancing was still going strong.

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Elladan, who had been looking for his brother, smiled broadly as he saw him come in, then stop and reach out a hand behind him, his eyes shining. The older twin stood up to see whom it was he was coaxing into the hall. He was not surprised, and deeply happy to see it was, indeed Galwyn, and he softly congratulated his brother under his breath. A figure came to stand beside him, and looking over, he saw it was Celeborn, also wearing a broad smile, and looking in the same direction as he was. The silver haired elf watched the pair for a moment, seeing the joy shining in their eyes.

"I wondered how long it would take them." He said to the dark-haired elf beside him who laughed wryly.

"Well, you know Elrohir. He's not exactly one for rushing into things, is he?" They both smiled as they watched the younger twin dancing with the raven-haired woman.

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A/N:  So there you go, together at last! It's odd, because I wasn't even intending to have romance in this fic, but it just evolved that way, and I'm having fun writing it, so who gives a s**t? And as it happens, the whole romance thing is going to be an important factor later on, so don't think I'm deliberately delving into the realms of Mary-Sue!


	13. Concerning a recovery

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

***

After they had been dancing for some time, too happy to try to speak, Galwyn disengaged herself from Elrohir's arms.

"Come, you cannot stay with me all night! Go and do your duties!" He pouted childishly, then smiled and nodded.

"Where are you going? I don't want one of those princes or my brother stealing you away." She laughed and kissed his cheek.

"I will be out on the balcony."

"Alright then. I will be there in a few moments." They parted, and Galwyn went to stand outside, her gaze fixed on the stars. She was so happy, she could barely believe it; her eyes were shining, and the tears were long gone from her eyes. And yet, she couldn't quite forget what those voices had said. Was she good enough for him? Was it meant to be?

"No." She said out loud, trying to banish the thoughts from her mind, but they did not go away. She thought of Elrohir, of the shining happiness that had lit his eyes as they had walked back up to the hall, and she shook her head. They were wrong; she did deserve him. She did deserve to be where she was. She dragged a smile onto her face, and, as she remembered their kiss, it started to reach her eyes. She looked up into the sky and watched the stars, unaware of time passing. Suddenly a hand was placed over her eyes and another on her waist. Before she could cry out, a familiar voice spoke in her ear.

"Guess who?" She laughed and tried to turn round, but the hand on her waist held her tightly. "Oh no. You have to guess."

"Who on earth could it be?" She asked in a questioning voice and the hand at her waist briefly left it to sweep all her hair over one shoulder, leaving the other one bare, before returning to her waist again.

"You're not guessing very well, are you?"

"Well maybe I need a clue?" There was silence and then she gasped, closing her eyes in pleasure as she felt his lips touching her uncovered skin, making a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her neck, and then to her ear, before whispering quietly into it.

"Any ideas?" He asked quietly, his hand gently stroking her waist.

"Maybe. I was thinking perhaps it was Daromir?"

"No." Came the reply.

"Lysandil?"

"Wrong again."

"Hmm…Elladan?"

"I should hope not!" He said with a laugh.

"Perhaps I might have one more clue then?"

"If you wish." Without taking his hand off her eyes, Elrohir turned her round and, taking a moment first to assure himself that it really was happening, he kissed her. When they broke apart, he asked again.

"Any…any ideas?"

"There was one."

"Who might that be?" She didn't say anything but reached up and gently prised his hand from her eyes, and it came to rest on her waist with the other.

"As I thought." She shook her head and sighed. "Such a disappointment." She said sadly, then, seeing the confused look in Elrohir's eyes, she laughed, and, after a moment, he joined in. "So what is my prize?"

"Do you deserve one?"

"Yes!"

"Alright then." He said, before kissing her again, her arms curling up and around his neck. She was glad for his hands on her waist, for suddenly her legs felt as if they were too weak to hold her up. They both would have been happy to stay there forever, but a voice laughing behind them broke them apart. They turned round and saw Elladan standing there, eyebrows raised and his hands resting on his hips.

"Haven't been together for five minutes, and already can't stay apart." He shook his head in mock sadness, before coming over to them, a broad smile on his face. He took one of Galwyn's hands, and one of Elrohir's in his own. "I am so happy for you both." They smiled back at him, and he laughed and kissed her hand. "If only I was as lucky as you, brother." He said, his eyes meeting Elrohir's, and he smile grew as he saw the happiness there, mirrored in her eyes as well. The younger twin smiled, and together, they made their way back inside.

***

After the dancing had finished, and the guests had retired and said their goodnights, Elrohir walked Galwyn back to her rooms. At her door, they embraced tightly, not wanting to let go. Gently, she disengaged herself from his arms, and kissed him lightly on the mouth. They broke apart with a sigh and exchanged sweet goodnights. 

She went into her room and went briefly out onto her balcony. As she looked out into the sky for the second time that evening, she didn't believe that anything could stop her happiness. The only mars on her thoughts were her worries for Elrond and the evil that was spreading in Mirkwood. Otherwise, her life was just perfect. She was with Elrohir, a thing she had only dreamt might happen, and nothing could touch them.

As she lay in her bed that night, her last thought was of him, and she fell asleep with a tender smile on her lips.

***

Glorfindel, far from his usual state of calm, was running through the corridors of Mirkwood, his face wearing a broad smile. He had received news from Thranduil that morning when he awoke that Elrond's fever had passed, and he was almost back to his normal self. His heart alive with joy for the recovery of his friend, Glorfindel raced towards the chamber where the Lord of Imladris lay, and had lain since the attack. Thranduil was waiting for him outside in the corridor. He smiled as he saw him approach.

"Why, Glorfindel! You look positively disarrayed!" They both laughed at the unkempt appearance of the usual immaculate and composed elf. Then Thranduil smiled broadly, gesturing for the other blond elf to go in. Glorfindel, who needed no more encouragement, opened the door, and entered, quietly pushing the door shut behind him. At the sound, Elrond, who had been facing the window, turned round, his face immediately breaking into a weary smile, and he pushed himself up so he was almost sitting. Glorfindel strode over to his greatest friend, and took his hands, holding them in his own, and marvelling at how warm they were, when for so long they had been cold as ice. When his eyes met Elrond's, the dark haired elf could see they were full of happy tears, and he knew they mirrored his own. He freed one of his hands and reached out to hold it to the blond elf's face.

"Why do you cry, dear friend?"

"I am so very happy that you are recovered. For I while I feared I would lose you."

"You underestimate me, Glory." He said, using his friend's nickname. "It would take more than that to rid you of me!" They both laughed lightly, but Glorfindel's expression became suddenly more serious.

"I fear though that I may lose you still." Elrond looked at him, saw in his shining emerald eyes what he meant, and shook his head.

"No, I will not leave these shores. My business in Middle Earth is not yet done, and until it is, I will not even consider it. I promise you that. Let your heart be at peace." He said softly, gently brushing the tears away from his friend's cheek, who nodded slowly.

"Then I may be truly happy, at least for a moment. Elrond, there is much I have to tell you."

"I know, but after all this time spent in lonely delirium, I crave some lighter talk. Speak to me first of you, for I have missed you greatly. I could feel your presence, could almost feel your mind reaching for mine, but the fever was too strong for me, and the pull was lost. Now I have regained myself, and you, and I wish to revel only in that for a moment." Glorfindel smiled tenderly at his words, and sighed.

"I had to try, though I could not believe you would know it."

"Few could have done what you did, Glory. I owe you much. Indeed, for saving my life, Thranduil tells me. I am forever in your debt, my dear friend." A flush coloured the blond elf's fair skin, and he did not speak for a moment as recollection of the horrors he had seen flashed through his mind.

"I will not speak of it again, my Lord. Suffice to say that I only wish I could have helped you more, got to you sooner." Elrond's silvery grey eyes grew darker as he, too, remembered. But he held Glorfindel in his gaze.

"You could have done no more. Indeed, in your state, it is a miracle that you managed to do what you did. Are you healed?"

"Yes, I feel no pain now. I only felt for you."

"I thank you, Glorfindel, with all my heart. And we shall speak of it no more.

***

A/N:As usual, please review and let me know what you think! Oh and thanks to my mate Selli for her input on this chapter! (Are you happy now Selli?)


	14. Concerning a council

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

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The council was held on the large platform that came off part of the palace, overlooking the beauty of Imladris. Chairs had been set out in three quarters of a circle, with four chairs slightly separated from the others to finish off the rough circle. Into these four sat Elladan, Gandalf, Celeborn and Elrohir. Galwyn sat next to Estel, and saw that several others of the Dúnedain were also present. Haldir sat with the other elves from Lórien, most of whom were familiar but not well known to her, and of the Mirkwood elves, the only two she knew were Daromir and Lysandil. There were several other Imladris elves as well, making the total number of the group 20, including herself, she counted. The mood was sombre, and serious, and she remembered that Gandalf had told her that this was the only time when a council had been held in Imladris without being presided over by Lord Elrond. The wizard, with a nod from Celeborn, cleared his throat and stood up.

"Welcome to all of you, strangers from the elven kingdoms, and those whom are familiar. We are gathered here, in the absence of Lord Elrond, to assess the evil that has assailed us. You all know that evil has been brewing in Dol Guldur again, and that it was this evil that attacked the party from Imladris that included both Master Elrond, and also Lord Glorfindel. As well as receiving grievous hurts, indeed, it is thanks to Lord Glorfindel that Master Elrond survived, something altogether terrible also occurred that night." He paused slightly, looking around the circle. "Vilya has been stolen." There was silence around the circle, and, watching Elrohir, Galwyn saw his eyes cloud for a moment. Gandalf sat back down in his seat, and Celeborn stood up.

"As you all know, this is a terrible turn of events. If Vilya is used, it will be for evil, lessening the power of the remaining rings to do good, and giving the evil forces much greater strength. If it is destroyed, then not only will it weaken the power of Narya and Nenya forever and therefore of the elves themselves, but Lord Elrond, whose life is bound to it, just as all ring bearers are bound to those they keep, will perish also." 

There were several shocked intakes of breath from around the circle as Celeborn put into words their deepest fears.

"There is no other choice," Celeborn continued, "but to retrieve the ring."

Silence reigned once more in the circle, and then Lysandil, with a nod at his brother, stood up.

"It was not unknown to us that there were once more dark forces in Dol Guldur, we have always reviled the place and it, in turn has always repelled us, and most living creatures. Since the fall of Sauron, the tower that has cast shadow over us has been silent, but recently, there has been smoke sighted there, rising above the forest, and sometimes, carried from far off on the wind, the sounds of voices speaking in many foul tongues. But never before has this evil strayed as far as the Old Forest Road where Lord Elrond and his party were attacked, and since that day, they have not been seen since in our borders. It is grave indeed." He sat down, and Gandalf nodded at him, his face grave, but his eyes smiling gently. The wizard stood up.

"From what Lysandil has said, we can deduce that this attack was premeditated, and executed with the purpose of theft. We know from Glorfindel that the attack was made not only by orcs, but by men as well. However, there has to be some leader for this evil, for under no free will would orcs and men co-operate together. One thing is certain though: the first thing is to retrieve Vilya." There were murmurs of agreement around the circle at this, and Celeborn stood up.

"The key to the retrieval of the ring of Airs is the shape-shifter, Galwyn. Gandalf and myself will choose an escort for her, for her protection is vital, who will get as close as possible to Dol Guldur, and then it will be up to her to act as a spy, to find out the whereabouts of the ring, and to exchange it with this." He held up in his hand an exact copy of the Ring of airs, the gold band inset with a great, blue stone. "The Lady Galadriel had this made. It is powerless, but almost indistinguishable from the original." He replaced it back in his pocket. "With the information she gets, we will also know their strengths, weaknesses and numbers."

"The group we take," Gandalf continued as Celeborn sat down again, "will have around 15 people, including Galwyn, myself and Lord Celeborn. They are under no obligation to go, and, if that is their will, they will be replaced. The others will return to their respective lands, and await news. Messages will be sent by the fastest possible means: the eagles. Are there any questions?"

An Imladris elf that Galwyn didn't know, but who was obviously an elf-Lord, judging by his dark hair, the richness of his clothes and the fact that he was present at the council, stood up.

"When shall we know who has been chosen?" Gandalf smiled.

"A good point, Lord Léanor. At the hour of three this afternoon, we will reassemble here and Lord Celeborn and I will let you all know of our choices. The group will set out tomorrow morning." He paused, and looked around the circle to see if there were any more questions. There were none, and so he continued. "The council is dismissed." The people gathered there began to disperse, and Elrohir, waiting till only Celeborn and Gandalf remained, talking quietly in a corner, walked quickly over to where Galwyn was standing, some distance away. He stood next to her, and for several moments, neither spoke, each lost in thought, until Elrohir broke the silence.

_ "Mani lle naa nowien, lisser?"_ What are you thinking, sweet one? She sighed and turned to face him.

"Amin uuma nowa tanya amin gara um sina." I do not think I can do this. He smiled tenderly, and with one hand, reached out and took hers, and with the other, gently tilted her chin up till her eyes met his.

"Lasta a'amin Galwyn: Lle naa beleg, ar astald. Sina n'naa tar lle." Listen to me, Galwyn: You are strong, and brave. This is not beyond you. 

"Amin estela tanya lle naa n'raika." I hope you are not wrong. 

"Amin n'nauva." I will not be. She looked deep in his eyes, and knew he was telling the truth. She sighed again, and he stepped closer and took her in his arms. She leaned her head on his shoulder wearily, closing her eyes in pleasure at the feel of his arms around her, enveloping her in his warmth. Suddenly he stepped back, and she frowned at the loss of contact. He laughed softly at her expression and took her hand.

"Come, let us walk together. I want to show you something."

"What is it?"

"You'll have to wait and see!" She grinned, her worries briefly forgotten as they made their way down towards the woods. In the bright sunlight, they appeared more beautiful than she could ever remember seeing them, and she smiled happily. As they went deeper into the woods, she realised she had never before trod the paths they were now using, and she allowed herself to be pulled along by an eager Elrohir. After several minutes, they stopped and he ran round behind her to cover her eyes. She laughed,

"Not again, Elrohir!"

"I want it to be a surprise! Go on, just walk straight forward." She obliged, and after about twenty-five feet, he stopped her, and removed his hands. As she opened her eyes, she gasped in shock, and her breath caught in her throat. They were standing in a small, circular clearing ringed completely with white, pink and pale lilac blossom trees in full bloom. The floor of the clearing had been completely covered in a thick carpet of the petals that had fallen in the breeze, and the air was dotted with more of them, drifting slowly down to the ground like fragrant snow.

"It's…it's beautiful!" She exclaimed, turning this way and that to see all around. She closed her eyes and inhaled the heady scent of the blooms, and lifted her face up so that the falling petals would drift over her skin. After a few moments, she opened her eyes again, and directed her full smile on him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For bringing me here. I don't think I've ever seen anywhere so beautiful. How did you know about this place?"

"This was mine and Elladan's secret place when we were young. We used to escape here away from the adults when we wanted to be left alone, and sometimes to hide from Arwen when she wanted to play silly, girly games with us!"

"That's mean!"

"I know, but we weren't exactly keen on her love of braiding flowers and ribbons into our hair." She laughed at the image, and smirked.

"Why not? You would look lovely with ribbons!" They both laughed, and she sat down on the ground, gesturing for him to sit beside her. She lay back, and he did the same, resting his head on her stomach, while she leaned on one elbow, the other hand gently playing with his hair.

Time passed slowly as they talked and laughed together, lulled by the beauty and calmness of their surroundings. After a while in which they had been silent, lost in happy thoughts, the hand in his hair stopped moving, and, rolling onto his stomach, Elrohir could see that she had fallen into a gentle slumber. Her lips, which were slightly parted, were curved into a smile, and her chest rose and fell slightly as she breathed. His eyes ran over her face, taking in the long, dark lashes that lay against her smooth, high cheekbones, and the gently arched brows above her closed eyelids. One hand lay just above her head, palm up, with the fingers curved inwards, and the other rested on her stomach, where it had previously lain on his head. Her black hair was spread out like a dark halo around her head, in stark contrast with the bright white and pastel colours of the petals, several of which had also dotted her deep purple gown. Suddenly remembering the council, he glanced up at the sun through the trees. Judging from its position in the sky, it was nearing the hour of three, and, against his will, for he had no wish to disturb her, he would have to wake her up. He leaned over and gently kissed her. She woke up immediately with a smile on her face, and sat up, stretching.

"What a nice way to wake up!"

"I like to oblige." He said seriously, and she laughed.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly three, I think. We must return."

"But I don't want to leave!" She said in a petulant tone and frowned, her mouth in a childish pout.

"Neither do I, but we have to go. Come on." He took her hands and pulled her up, and, keeping hold of one of them, began leading her back to the palace.

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When they reached the balcony where the council was being held, they found they were almost the last to arrive. Elladan was deep in conversation with the elf who had spoken at the council, Lord Léanor, and another, who Elrohir told her was named Alandril. As he saw them arrive, the older twin smiled, before turning his attention back to his conversation. Suddenly, at some apparently unspoken command, the people gathered took their seats, and, turning round, Galwyn could see that Gandalf and Celeborn had returned to the council. When everyone had taken their seats, the wizard stood up. Celeborn handed him a piece of parchment, and the wizard took it, clearing his throat before speaking.

"The Lord Celeborn and I have made our decision. We have chosen the party to include equal numbers of representatives from each of the parties assembled here. Those joining myself, Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galwyn from the realm of Lothlórien will be: the Lords Haldir, Arùmil and Gelion. From Mirkwood: Prince Lysandil, Prince Daromir and Lord Naldorin. From the Dúnedain: Lord Estel, and the Masters Halbarad and Finrodan. And from Imladris: The Lords Léanor, Alandril and Elrohir." There were murmurs from around the circle, and Galwyn's eyes briefly met Elrohir's, which were full of relief. Gandalf sat down, and Celeborn stood up, holding up a hand to bring silence to the council.

"Upon those accompanying us, no oath or bond is upon you to go further, or do more than your will. Those chosen have been so according to reasons not only of skill, or strength, but also for reasons of fellowship. Upon those not chosen, there is also a task laid, for they must return to their lands, and tell of what has been spoken of here. We shall be leaving in the morning, but the rest of you, Lord Elladan tells me, are welcome to remain as long as you will, though I urge you not to linger, for time is nobody's friend. Go now, and make your preparations." 

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A/N:  As usual, please review and let me know what you think! 


	15. Concerning a parting

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

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The council dispersed and each went their separate ways. Galwyn went first to the stables, where she brushed Nimsul until her coat shone, and made sure she had been well exercised, for the journey would be long, and arduous. Having done that, she returned briefly to her chambers to fetch the pair of white knives she wielded in preference to a sword and her quiver, and then made her way to the weaponry. She set about sharpening the blades until they would cut a hair lain across their edges. The knives themselves had been a gift from the Lord Glorfindel, who had taught her all she knew about weapon skills. They were made of silver, and were ornately decorated along the blades with elvish inscriptions to incite more strength and skill to the wielder. The handles too, made of a pale white-gold wood, were inlaid with gold and silver wire forming beautiful patterns and similar wordings to those on the blades. She needed also to collect arrows, and filled her quiver with the type she preferred: slightly longer, and a little thinner than the others, they were made of a pale wood, with green feathers for the fletches. As she left the weaponry, she realised that on the journey from Lórien, she had been the only one not armed for her weapons had been at Imladris, and that she had been dependent on the protection of the group. It was unlike her not to have noticed, for she hated not being in control of her own safety, but then a sudden image of Elrohir came into her mind, and she smiled as she remembered that she had been somewhat distracted. When she reached her chambers again, she put her quiver on her bed along with the knives in their special holder that allowed her to draw them both at the same time by reaching backwards. She found her bow, which, like her quiver, had come from Lórien, and ran her hands over the smooth wood, feeling the familiar patterns of the carvings beneath her fingers. It was longer than the bows she had seen the Mirkwood and Imladris elves carrying, and was slightly differently shaped as well. She remembered how she had reacted with surprise when she had first come to Rivendell, and Glorfindel had told her he would be instructing her in weaponry skills. While pleased she would be learning, she had been slightly confused. Surely if the situation arose, she could just transform? But then the answer had come to her; the frame of mind she needed to transform and maintain a form required peace and concentration, away from disturbance. In a battle situation, she would not be able to achieve this, and would have to rely on her own skills. And so she had learnt, and become competent in her skills, so that very occasionally, when she took on her teacher, she was able to win. Thanks to her half-elven heritage, she had inherited both the quick reflexes of the elves, and their heightened senses, so that her hearing and sight were as finely attuned as any elf's. She had not been a naturally good fighter, and it had taken much time, toil and practice to achieve what she had, and she was immensely proud of herself for overcoming her faults. The only problem was that she was probably the only one of the group who had never actually fought in a real situation, and while she blanched now at the thought of killing something, she knew she would not hesitate if she was called to do it. _I will cross that bridge when I come to it…_She thought, and concentrated on the task in hand: packing her spare clothes. She laid out on her bed several sets, two spare and one for the morning, each consisting of the distinctly un-glamorous clothing she had been used to wearing as a child but now only wore for travelling, but practicality was the key. In each set there was a high collared shirt, leggings and a knee-length tunic split up the sides to the waist. They were all of dark shades of blue and green, and the soft leather boots she placed beside the bed were of dark grey. She placed the clothing into her bag, and added to it her bedroll, and other things she knew she would need. When she was done, she cast her eyes around the room to see if she had missed anything, and, suddenly remembering it, picked up her Lórien cloak which was slit up the back to allow for her bow, knives and quiver, and added it to the pile of clothing she was going to wear the next day. She stood back and looked at her neatly packed bag, and smiled: She was done.

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After the council, having already made his preparations for the council, Elrohir had made his way with Elladan to the grassy courtyard where they had several targets set up. For a while they practiced in silence, intent on their activities, but after an hour had passed, Elladan set his bow down and waited for his brother to empty his quiver. Elrohir felt his twins' eyes on him, and as soon as he had let his last arrow fly to the centre of the target, he turned and went to where he was sitting on the grass, taking a seat beside him.

"Promise me you will be careful, Elrohir." Elladan said quietly, not looking at him.

"I swear it." The elder twin shook his head sadly and was silent for a moment before speaking again.

"I hate that we have to be parted."

"As do I, but these are not peaceful times. We must all make sacrifices."

"I know that, but sometimes it feels like we are the only ones who actually are." Elrohir nodded, knowing exactly what he meant: few could understand the pain the felt at parting. "I am happy for you, Elrohir, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course."

"I like her very much, it's just that…well, I have been thinking about it, and I think we have been a bit naïve."

"Naïve? Why?"

"Just remember what you are, Elrohir, and what she is not."

"I don't understand." But no matter how he protested, his twin would not explain himself further.

"Come, let us say goodbye now, while we still have some privacy left." Defeated, Elrohir nodded, and leaned into his brother's embrace.

"I love you."

"And I love you. Come back to me soon."

"I will. You won't even notice I'm gone." Elladan smiled ruefully at his younger brother's words and kissed him on both cheeks, before turning and walking away.

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The next morning came far sooner than Galwyn wanted. She woke up at dawn with the sunlight pouring through the windows, where she had deliberately left the curtains open to ensure she did not oversleep. Yawning, and stretching each of her limbs in turn, she hastily washed and pulled on the clothes she had left out for herself, and finishing it off with her silver belt. Casting a rueful look at the wardrobe full of beautiful gowns, she sat down in front of her mirror, and set about brushing then braiding her hair in the elven style: one thin plait at either ear, and the top layer of her hair pulled into a pony-tail, and then braided. She had filled all the space in her pack the previous night with the elven way bread, lembas, and she broke off the corner of one for her breakfast. Any other food would be found or hunted as they went, though as usual she would not partake in the eating of meat, for having been a rabbit or a deer for example, rather put one off eating it. She carefully strapped on her quiver and knives, making sure the straps were tight enough. With a last check through her pack, she pulled it onto her back, and was pleased to find it was not to heavy, and that she had, for once, packed efficiently. It was too warm to necessitate her cloak, so she had packed it, the material hardly taking up any space. Lastly, she slung her bow onto her shoulder, and then, she was ready. She made her way down to the stables, noticing that both Elrohir's and Haldir's horses were gone, and hurriedly led Nimsul out of her stall. As she rode into the courtyard, she realised that she was one of the last to arrive, and spotted Elrohir standing talking to the elf Léanor. She dismounted and walked over to him. He smiled as he saw her approach, and kissed her lightly, then introduced her to his friend. They spoke for a few minutes, before Gandalf and Celeborn arrived, signalling the departure. She noticed Elrohir's eyes casting about rather desperately, and realised he was looking for Elladan, who was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly she saw him, coming out of the woods, and she gently squeezed Elrohir's arm, and gestured with her head. He smiled his thanks, and went over to his twin. Galwyn watched from her horse with sadness, as they exchanged several words, embraced tenderly, then parted. When Elrohir mounted Celebmir, he cast one last look behind him, then fixed his gaze straight ahead, knowing that Elladan's eyes were burning into his back. With a word from Gandalf, they began to ride off, and, his eyes dark with sadness, Elrohir did not look back, knowing that if he did, the tears he was trying so hard to hold back would fall. Galwyn rode beside him silently, knowing he needed to deal with it himself, and knowing also that he would speak when he was ready. She rode level with Haldir, and they engaged themselves in light conversation, punctuated with long gaps where each was lost in thought. For the first time, Galwyn realised how hard it must be for Haldir to be away from Ralia. She had not witnessed their parting, but she had seen the look they had exchanged when they had left Lórien. The realisation came to her that probably every member of the group had to deal with leaving something precious behind somewhere, and that each was harbouring a personal pain. But nothing, no bond could compare to that shared by Elladan and Elrohir, for theirs was one that had been in existence their whole lives, and even before their births, and so its strength and depth were without equal. The thought subdued her for some time, until Haldir spoke again and she was drawn from her reverie. After they had stopped for a short break when the sun was high in the, for a drink and to give the horses a rest, Elrohir had still not spoken, but she suppressed the urge to comfort him. Instead, she found herself riding with the ranger Halbarad: a handsome young man a few years older than herself, with light brown hair and warm, dark brown eyes. She found his company to be engaging and pleasant, and the time passed quickly. Soon, the sun had fled from the sky and the stars had become visible. When they stopped for the day, she busied herself with brushing down Nimsul's coat. The rest of the group sat around the small fire they had made, more for light than heat as the evening was warm, merrily telling tales, singing songs and reciting poems. She looked around for Elrohir, but he was nowhere in sight. She sighed, but knew he would not be far. He had not returned by the time the group had retired for the night, and she was surrounded by sleeping bodies. She was sitting up on her bedroll a little way off from the others. She could just see the figures of the two on watch, Arùmil and Finrodan, sitting talking quietly together on the other side of the camp. She lay back on her bedroll, and closed her eyes, trying to find sleep, but her mind was clouded with worry. Suddenly she heard a tiny noise behind her, and she sat up and spun round, her tense body relaxing when she recognised Elrohir's form. He said nothing, but came and sat beside her, leaning his head against her shoulder as she gently wrapped her arms around him, one hand gently stroking his hair, and the other tenderly caressing his back. They stayed like that for some time, before she drew him down to lie with her on the bedroll and pulled a blanket around them, gently speaking soothing words into his ear until they both fell asleep, wrapped in each others arms. 

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A/N:  As usual, please review and let me know what you think! 


	16. Concerning bad tidings

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

A/N: Well, another chapter is up, and it's a pretty long one, so those of you who read this should be grateful! Show your appreciation by giving it a review! Yeah! That's the idea!

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Galwyn awoke early the next morning and the sky was not yet completely light, yet she felt refreshed and more relaxed than the previous day. She gently disengaged herself from Elrohir's arms and sat up, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. The rest of the party seemed to be still sleeping, and one glance down at glazed expression in Elrohir's silvery-grey eyes told her that he too, was still wandering the paths of dreams. The two on watch were now Estel and Gelion, at that moment standing on the other side of the camp. They turned as she stood up, immediately alert, noticing the movement more than the sound, as she could move almost as silently as any elf. When they saw it was her, they relaxed and politely smiled and nodded in greeting, not wishing to wake the others with any unnecessary words. She returned the gesture before walking round the camp towards the stream she had found the previous night. She knelt down beside it, quenching her thirst before and splashed the icy water over her face, hands, arms and neck. Feeling even more awake, she went back to the camp and stood by the treeline, looking out over the open plain at the sunrise. It was particularly beautiful, filling the sky with a dazzling display of light and colour. She jumped slightly when she felt a body pressed against her back and arms wrapped round her waist, but she immediately relaxed as she realised who it was, leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder and laying her hands over his.

"Good morning, Elrohir."

"Good morning, Galwyn."

"Isn't the sunrise beautiful?"

"Mmm…not as much as you, my darling."

"Don't you know that flattery will get you nowhere, master elf?"

"Yes, I know. But I was speaking fact, not flattery." He said lightly, gently kissing her neck just below her ear. He could feel her smiling, although she didn't reply. After a moment, he spoke again.

"Thank you for yesterday. I just needed some time alone."

"I knew you would come when you were ready. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you."

"There are few who can. But I think I will be better today. The first day is always the worst, and it was certainly not as bad as the last time we parted." He said quietly, knowing that it was not entirely true, and that the hurt, though now more of an ache than an acute pain, would only increase as time passed.

"I am always here, if you need to talk."

"I know, and for that I am truly grateful." They were both silent for a few moments as they watched the sun making its rise into the sky. Suddenly they heard voices and noises behind them, and they realised that the party, too, was rising, and making ready to leave. Galwyn turned round in his arms, and quickly kissed him before running over to pack up her own things. Elrohir stood for a moment and watched her, smiling, before going to collect his own things.

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The rest of the journey passed quickly as the group gradually closed the gap between them and their destination. As they grew ever nearer to Dol Guldur, it was as though they could feel the darkness reaching out for them, drawing them in, and they began to feel a lot uneasier. Elrohir took to riding with her for the majority of the day, whereas before he had ridden at the front with Gandalf, Celeborn, Lysandil and Daromir, for it was they who knew the roads into the forests of Mirkwood the best. After seven days of travelling, the woods of Mirkwood were looming up before them. They had taken the High Pass through the Misty Mountains, which, with it being summer, were the quickest route. From there, they had crossed to the other side of Anduin, the Great River, and followed it south, taking a path parallel between the water and the boundaries of the forest, eventually approaching Dol Guldur from the west. It had not been a hard journey, and the weather had been as kind as possible: warm and sunny, with clear skies. Indeed, if it had not been for the knowledge of her impending tasks, Galwyn was quite sure she would have enjoyed it. But as it was, she was feeling more and more trepidation, though she tried not to think of the danger. That evening they set up camp under the shade of the outermost trees of the forest near where the rough track came out into the open. This is where they would be staying while she carried out her tasks, not only protecting her, but also making sure that their presence went undetected. Once she had brushed down her horse and made sure she was tied up, she went off to spend a little time on her own, collecting her thoughts.

Once alone, she first practiced shifting, flicking through many different forms: owl- cat- squirrel- deer- sparrow- fox- butterfly- rabbit- mouse- eagle. Remaining in her eagle form, she flew up through the trees and west towards the tower of Dol Guldur. But she did not get as far as the tower, for though the sun had almost set and the stars were becoming visible, with her eagle sight she was easily able to see the band of orcs and wild men making their way towards the western edge of the forest. Shocked, she wheeled back down towards the tree line and changed into a sparrow so that she would blend into her surroundings better. As she followed them, flying from tree to tree in their wake, she listened to what they were saying, trying to distinguish their purpose, hoping with all her heart that they had not been detected. As there were men among them, they were all speaking the common tongue, and she was able to understand them and glean that they were going on a raid, apparently on a nearby village in the Drimrill Dale. Immediately, she changed back into her eagle form and flew as fast as she could back towards the camp- she had to warn them, or they could be in a very dangerous situation. 

It was Celeborn who first sighted the eagle overhead, something highly uncommon in these parts, and he guessed immediately that it was Galwyn. She alighted nearby him, and ran towards him, her face drawn and tired from the prolonged concentration, and her eyes wide with fear.

"Galwyn, child, what is it?"

She was breathing rather heavily, trying to catch her breath, but he managed to distinguish one word that sent a chill down his spine. "Orcs?!? How many?"

"And men, about forty of each as far as I could tell. They are headed this way, on the track, making for the shallow part of the river. They are going to raid a village in the Drimrill Dale I think."

"They don't know of our presence?"

"Not that I heard. But they will be here soon. What should we do?" Celeborn thought for a moment; they could not merely leave the place, for the remains of the camp would be found, and besides, they would hear the horses. There was only one thing to do.

"Galwyn, go and round up the camp. Explain the situation and tell them that we are going to ambush them." She nodded and spun round, but Celeborn caught her arm as she turned, and pulled her back round to face her. "Make sure they understand that not one must remain. It only takes one to return and inform of our presence here." She nodded again, slightly scared by the graveness of his expression. "And after that, I want you out of here."

"No! I will fight!"

"I will not argue with you about this. Do as I say."

"No."

"Galwyn, as long as you are under my charge, you will do as I say."

"I will not flee like a coward."

"This is not about cowardice! Do you know how important you are? What is dependent on you?"

"But I can fight! I am as good as any one of them!"

"No."

"I will do it, whether you like it or not." Celeborn's eyes flashed with anger, but she held her ground. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of resignation, and he sighed. "Fine. But I don't want you in the battle, if there is one. Stay hidden and just shoot. If you run out of arrows, then just stay put. Understood?" She nodded again and as she ran off, calling the attention of the others, the elf Lord looked after her ruefully, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake. Suddenly he realised he was not alone, and looked round to see Gandalf standing next to him. 

"So you have heard then?" He asked quietly.

"Yes." The wizard replied slowly. He paused for a moment. "I also heard your argument with Galwyn."

"And?"

"She would have gotten involved whether you forbade it or not. At least this way, she might just obey your wishes."

"Yes, that is what I thought, but somehow I am not sure she will."

"I will tell Elrohir and Haldir to stick to her like glue and make sure she doesn't enter the fight. And I will keep an eye on her myself. Two, when possible."

"And I." 

They made their way over to where the group was gathered around Galwyn who was telling them what she had seen. When they joined them, Gandalf explained what they were going to do, and they immediately moved into action. He looked over to Galwyn. 

"How long before they are here?"

"I will find out." She transformed instantly and flew up through the canopy of trees, scanning the ground for the approaching danger, spotting them easily and flew down to meet them. As she did so, she suddenly saw them stop, and went to the head of the group, alighting on a nearby tree.

"What is it? What do you smell?" One of he orcs asked. The leader was silent for a moment, sniffing the air.

"Elf and horse flesh…and…man flesh that is different to them." He gestured at the wild men, before spitting on the ground in disgust.

"Elves? Horses? But they do not come this far south into the forest?"

"Do you doubt me?" The leader snarled, his knife drawn, and his face drawn into a hideous scowl.

"No, of course not. How far away?"

"Not far. We will surprise them and teach them a lesson for intruding our territory." He called out something she didn't understand, but it's meaning was clear as the group began to move again. She flew back to the camp and alighted next to the wizard, back in her normal form.

"They are now only about two miles away, and approaching fast...they've picked up our scent." Gandalf nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, we are ready for them. Elrohir! Haldir!" He called over her shoulder, and turning, she saw the two elves running over. "Take her, and find her somewhere safe to shoot. She is not to enter the battle itself, do you understand? Her safety is paramount." They both nodded, and the wizard left them, going to help Celeborn. When Elrohir looked at Galwyn, he saw she was scowling. Haldir tactfully neglected to make a comment, and busied himself with checking his quiver was strapped on properly.

"What is wrong?" Elrohir asked carefully.

"I want to fight properly, but they will not let me."

"And rightly so."

"Why? I am not incapable of taking care of myself!"

"No, but we cannot afford to take any risks where you are concerned."

"What makes you think letting me fight would be a risk?" She asked, eyes darkening. Haldir quickly shot a warning look at Elrohir, but the dark-haired elf was not looking in his direction.

"Well, you don't really have much experience in fighting, do you?" At this, Galwyn's cheeks flushed with anger, and Haldir shook his head sadly.

"What you mean is that you don't trust me to look after myself? Is that it?"

"Well, to be honest, yes." Haldir's eyebrows shot up, and he engaged in a mental debate as to whether or not he could escape without being noticed. He looked over at Galwyn and could see instantly how angry she was. But although he had obviously noticed her expression, Elrohir did not seem to be about to back down.

"Don't say another word. I think you have made yourself perfectly clear." With that, she stormed off in the direction of the woods. Haldir exchanged a glance with Elrohir and shrugged apologetically.

"You tried your best."

"Yes, but I don't think it was enough." He started off in the direction of the woods as well, and Haldir sighed and followed him. The rest of the group were taking places in the trees and undergrowth either side of the end of the track and they could see Celeborn directing Galwyn to a spot rather further away than the others. Without a word they both took positions either side of her, and Haldir tried his best to ignore the furious looks she was shooting them. Elrohir was obviously doing the same, his gaze rather fixed on the track, the trees, his bow, his knives, his sword- anything but the woman a few feet away. Haldir could see from his expression that he was slightly hurt by Galwyn's behaviour, but, knowing Galwyn from old, he had known that Elrohir was not directing the conversation in a direction that would end without an argument. He turned to meet one of her gazes and could easily see the hurt behind the anger displayed on her face. He could guess that she felt rather humiliated by the treatment she had been given by Celeborn and Elrohir, but he knew, even if she didn't, that they were only concerned with her safety. He sighed quietly and turned his gaze onto the track. He could just about feel the tremors of the approaching footsteps, and, looking over at Elrohir and Galwyn, he could see that they too had felt them. Each took an arrow and fitted it to the string in preparation. They had orders to shoot once the orcs and wild men left the track and were out in the open where it would be easier to keep track of them, and all around him, Haldir could hear the slight rustle as each of the group took an arrow and slotted it into place. The tremors were becoming much more tangible and he felt his body tensing with anticipation. Soon they could hear the sounds of the terrible voices as well, gradually getting louder as they came closer. Suddenly, the first few orcs came into view and after a few minutes, the whole group had passed out into the open. The horses had been driven away and tied up safely some distance away, but they had left the remains of the fires to be found, and sure enough, they were. The group halted while the leader inspected what they had found. This was their chance, and at once arrows began flying from the trees and undergrowth, and swathes of orcs and wild men fell dead with fatally aimed arrows. Each of the group was letting the arrows fly at an incredible speed, and over half of them had fallen by the time their arrows were spent. The rest would have to be dealt with by hand: the real fight had now begun.

Galwyn had been one of the last to begin shooting, the situation new and terrifying to her, but once she had let the first arrow fly, she did not stop, expending all her arrows within a few minutes, though it felt like much longer. Her aim did not fail her, and she wasted only two of her supply of arrows. All around her, the rest of the group were starting to exit the undergrowth, leaving their hiding places to take on the rest by hand. She slung her bow onto her back and unsheathed her knives, the adrenalin pulsing through her veins. She stood up and began to run but cried out in shock as a hand grabbed her shoulder and stopped her, spinning her round. She came face to face with Elrohir whose face was a mask of anger.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Going to fight."

"No! Get back!"

"I'm going whether you like it or not."

"So you will disobey not only Gandalf and Celeborn, but me as well?"

"You cannot force me to stay here." Elrohir regarded her silently for a few seconds, then unsheathed his knives and dropped them to the ground, his sword following suit a few moments later. She watched in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"If you do not stay here, then I will go out there armed with nothing but my bare hands." She paled with shock, then flushed with anger.

"You wouldn't." She said coldly, the fury once more pulsing through her, blocking out the sounds of the fighting raging only a short distance away.

"Try me." He replied, his voice just as icy as hers. 

"You're blackmailing me? That's despicable."

"You leave me no other choice. And don't think that if I see you out there at any moment, I will not forsake my weapons immediately." She bent down, picked up his sword and knives and shoved them at him.

"Go on then, what are you waiting for?" With one last cold glare, she sheathed her own knives and stalked off away from the battle back towards where she had been hidden. Certain now that she would not move, he ran out to join the battle.

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A/N:  I always like to get feedback, so go on, do me a favour and review so I know I'm not doing this for my pleasure alone! 


	17. Concerning a battle and an understanding

Disclaimer: As in other chapters, Tolkien owns everything you don't recognise from the books.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews I've had so far!

Juniper Holly: Thanks for your comments, which rather freaked me out, because I've already written quite a bit more than I've posted, and as you can see from this chapter, there was good reason for her behaviour in the previous one!

Oh, and just so you know, in my random little mind, I have recently sort of been comparing Galwyn, in a very strange hardly related way, to Ariel from The Little Mermaid, who was my heroine was I was little because she was so feisty and headstrong (I just love that word! It's me in a nutshell!). But that's just about where the connection ends!

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The sounds of fighting were deafening and overwhelming, and though many of the orcs and wild men had fallen to the volleys of arrows, the group of elves and men were still outnumbered, and were fighting for all their were worth. The Mirkwood princes had positioned themselves on the outskirts of the battle, shooting all those who tried to make it back into the forest. As he ran into the middle of the fray, Elrohir was immediately assailed by a large orc with an axe. Immediately the dark-haired elf reacted, blocking the blow that was coming towards him with his sword in his right hand, and then embedding one of his knives in the creature's chest with his left. The orc staggered back and with another sweep of his sword, Elrohir cut off its head. He bent down to pull his knife out of its chest. He heard a movement behind him and saw three more of the foul creatures coming towards him. He tossed his head to get the hair that had come loose from its braids out of his eyes, and waited for the first blow to come. When it did, a strong thrust towards his stomach, he blocked it and spun around to parry another blow towards his neck. His movements were so fast they were almost a blur, as he spun this way and that, blocking and striking out with both hands. 

After several minutes, three dead orcs lay in a pile at his feet, and his attention was caught by a flash of blond hair in the corner of his vision. He spun round and saw Haldir fighting a group of three men. One lay, apparently dead at the elf's feet, but the remaining men were much faster than the orcs, but just as strong, and even as he watched, Elrohir could see his friend was beginning to tire. There was a cut on his forehead and every so often he would have to pause to clear his vision. There was also a bloodstain on his shoulder. Elrohir ran over to him, and aiming quickly, he threw one of his knives, smiling as he saw it hit his target, and the man fell with a grunt, the knife firmly in the centre of his back. One of the remaining men turned away from Haldir and started coming towards Elrohir, whose energy was renewed by the flood of adrenalin rushing through him. As they fought, each blow blocked by the other, Elrohir felt himself beginning to gain the upper hand, and he slashed away, his movements speeding up. He felt the sting of a blade down his cheekbone and again on his arm, but the man in front of him was in a worse state. He was now only able to use one arm, and he was limping slightly from a blow to his left leg. Elrohir's next blow knocked the sword from his hand and a moment later he fell, his throat cut. He looked over at his friend and saw him pulling his sword out of his opponent's chest, grimacing at the red sheen of blood on the blade. As he looked around, he could see the number of orcs and men was now greatly depleted, and only a few remained. There were some more coming towards him and he sucked in his breath in anticipation, spinning the knife in his hand around as he loosened up his tense muscles. 

Within a few minutes, four more orcs lay dead around him, and a couple of men as well. He looked behind him to see Celeborn slitting the throat of another orc, and Léanor and Gelion were fighting three more together, shortly joined by Arùmil, who helped them finish them off. After he had killed another two men, Elrohir could see no more standing. Daromir and Lysandil had ended the lives of all those who tried to make it to the woods with a fatal shot, and he could see the rest of the group beginning to retrieve arrows and pile up the bodies of the dead into several large piles. He smiled as he realised that none of the group had fallen, although the bruises and cuts were numerous. Several of them were limping, and he himself, now the adrenalin had left him, was beginning to feel the stinging pain of the wound on his arm. He began to pile up the bodies around him, and was shortly joined by Haldir, Halbarad, who was holding his stomach with his hand, and Estel. They proceeded to burn the piles skilfully piling the wood in a way that would minimise the smoke. Luckily, it was a windy day, and the direction was blowing it away from the forest. As they stood back and moved away from the foul smelling piles, they could see Daromir approaching.

"Not one of them made the forest, we made sure of that." Daromir said with a satisfied smile, which the others returned. Suddenly they heard a movement on the outskirts of the forest, and immediately the prince had his loaded bow pointed in the direction it had come from, his eyes searching for the proprietor of the noise. After a few seconds, the figure became visible and he lowered his bow.

As she walked out of the forest, Galwyn was rather shocked to see the size of the burning piles, but she did not let her surprise reach her eyes. She was still furious, and humiliated, and her expression was cold. As he looked from one to the other, Haldir could see that neither she nor Elrohir would look at one another, and he wondered how Elrohir had persuaded her to stay out of the battle. Obviously, both were extremely angry, because Galwyn's eyes were almost indigo in colour, and Elrohir's were a dark, steely grey. Daromir exchanged a glance with Haldir, one eyebrow raised in an unspoken question. Completely ignoring Elrohir, she walked over to Halbarad, an expression of concern on her face.

"Halbarad! You're bleeding!"

"Ah, it is but a scratch." He smiled, slightly perturbed at the strange look in her eyes. 

"Come with me, I'll clean it for you."

"Honestly, it's nothing!" He protested but she ignored him, and pulled his hand away from his stomach. He sucked in his breath at the sudden pain, and she raised an eyebrow, took his hand, and led away. He cast a confused look over his shoulder at Haldir, but the blond elf looked just as surprised as he. She led him over to the edge of the stream and made him lie back on the slightly sloping bank, propped up on his elbows. She had her pack with her, and she reached in and pulled out a strip of material that she went and soaked in the stream. When she came back from the riverbank she opened her pack and started looking for something, but after a second, she turned and looked at him.

"Well take off your shirt then! I can't clean the wound through it!" The young man blushed slightly, but complied none the less, slowly undoing the ties of his dark green tunic and brown shirt. The area around the wound was stained red, but the wound itself was no longer bleeding. Kneeling beside him, she reached out tentatively and pressed the soaked material against the wound, the icy water eliciting a quiet moan from the prostrate elf. Her eyes met his and she smiled reassuringly before looking back to what she was doing. She concentrated on cleaning the dried blood from the wound, and then rubbed on the balm she had fetched from her bag; a mixture of crushed herbs that aided healing. Finally she wrapped another strip of material around him over the wound, tying it with deft movements. As she worked, her thoughts strayed to Elrohir, and she was once again filled with the same cold fury as she had been before. She knew it was probably irrational, but she was filled with a strong desire to hurt him just as he had hurt her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him and Haldir, along with some others some distance away down the river, but coming in their direction. She was startled out of her thoughts by a sudden gasp from the man. She turned instantly, her face concerned.

"What is it?"

"Your hand!" She looked puzzled for a moment, then looked down and realised her hand was pushing rather heavily on his wound. She pulled it away instantly, an apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry."

"That's alright." He started to rise and she helped him, extending a hand to pull him up. He regarded her gravely for a moment. "What is wrong? Has something happened with you and Elrohir?" He asked gently, noticing the way her eyes kept straying to him and then looking away instantly as though it burned her. She looked at him in mild anger, but it quickly faded and she sighed.

"Ay." She replied shortly. Halbarad nodded understandingly.

"Do not worry, I do not wish to pry, only to say that I am available, should you wish to talk about it." She smiled gratefully and he returned it, gesturing to his neatly bandaged wound. "Thank you for this." She nodded and watched his retreating figure for a moment before sitting down and beginning to put the things back into her pack. She looked up as she heard light footsteps approaching, and saw the blond figure of Haldir standing over her.

"He told me what happened." He said quietly. She did not answer, so he continued. "I can't say that I blame him." At this, she looked up angrily.

"How can you say that? He blackmailed me!"

"Only because you left him no other choice!"

"What? Why were you all so determined not to let me fight?"

"Are you so incensed with this headstrong wish to prove yourself that you cannot see why?" Once again she did not answer, but met his angry gaze with her own. "Right now, you are just about the most important person in Middle Earth. You, and you alone can help us achieve what we must. Without you, our cause is lost. Yet, here you are, letting your old insecurities govern you to the point of plain recklessness. Letting you fight was a risk we cannot take. Think about it! Your life is not yours to play with anymore." Galwyn regarded the normally calm and stoic elf before her with nothing short of shock. It was as though there was a window into her soul and he was looking right through it. She looked down at the ground, feeling the tears pricking the back of her eyes. She couldn't argue with him; he was completely right. She had been so foolish! All her life, her powers had hung over her head; the knowledge that they were all that distinguished her from any other human, the only thing that let her lead the life she did, was always there at the back of her mind. Now, she had been given the opportunity to prove herself, and she had wanted to risk it for the headstrong desire to be accepted as something she wanted to be, but was not? And Elrohir! All he had wanted to do was protect her, and make her see that she was being reckless, but she had behaved like a spoilt child. It was all too painful, and she felt the tears spilling down her cheeks.

Inwardly chastising himself for his blunt words, Haldir knelt beside her, and gently pulled her into his arms, feeling the slender body shaking with the muffled sobs that escaped her. He suddenly felt very old compared to her, and her vulnerability and fragility suddenly became very real. She was only a young woman, barely out of her teens, and yet she was carrying a burden of responsibility that she should not have to bear.

"I am sorry, Galwyn. I spoke harshly. Do not feel you are merely a means to an end."

"No," she said into his shoulder, "I know you did not mean that. But you spoke the truth. I was foolish. I should have realised my responsibility, and acted accordingly instead of behaving like I did. It is I who must ask forgiveness."

"There is nothing to forgive." He said gently, one hand stroking her hair soothingly. After a few moments, she pulled away and smiled as he brushed the tears from her cheeks. Over his shoulder, she could see Elrohir walking off somewhere, and when her gaze returned to Haldir he nodded gently. "Go to him. You must resolve this."

"Is he angry?"

"He is hurt." She sighed, and he stood up, extending a hand to help her up. She met his gaze again and saw he was smiling encouragingly. She took a deep breath, and began follow the path the dark-haired elf had taken.

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A/N:  Reviewing lets me know that someone out there is reading this and appreciating this, so please let me know your thoughts!


	18. Concerning a reconciliation

Disclaimer: I only own the stuff you don't recognise. Everything thing else belongs to Tolkien.

A/N: Sorry it's been a while since I updated, but I have been very busy with work and the new story I have started. Also, I know this is rather a short chapter, but the next one will be longer, I promise!

If you are enjoying this story, then please review and tell me so! And thanks to all those who have reviewed so far! And if you like my style of writing, then check out my other story 'Exchanges'. Happy reading!

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It didn't take her long to find him; he was sitting just inside the forest, leaning against a tree and sharpening his newly cleaned knives and sword. He looked up as she approached but didn't acknowledge her presence. She stopped a few metres away from him and waited a few moments before speaking.

"Elrohir? We need to talk." He didn't reply so she gestured to the ground next to him. "Can I sit down?" He didn't look up from what he was doing, but nodded. She sat down next to him; pulling her knees up so she wrap her arms round them. There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the sound of Elrohir running his whetstone down the blade of one of his knives. It was she who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry…for today. I'm sorry for my behaviour, and I'm sorry for pushing you too far. I'm sorry I made you angry, but most of all…I'm sorry I hurt you." He did not reply, but he ceased his actions and sighed softly, turning to look at her properly for the first time.

"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have acted like I did." Her eyes widened.

"No! You have nothing to apologise for, you only acted as you did because I left you no other choice. It is my foolish, childish behaviour and sheer stupidity that is to blame. You were only trying to protect me; I wouldn't be much help to anyone if I was dead, would I?" She said softly.

"But in doing what I did, I hurt you, and for that I am sorry." She met his silvery gaze and a nervous smile touched her mouth. He smiled back and put his things down. "Come here." He said gently, and pulled her into his arms, wiping away the tears that once again threatened to flow as she lost herself in the happy warmth of his embrace.

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When they returned to the camp, they were greeted by a smiling Haldir who looked at their linked hands and content expressions with relief. 

"Thank Elbereth!" He exclaimed happily. "I don't think I could have coped with both of you in foul moods!" He laughed and they both joined in. Elrohir pulled her closer to him and wrapped an arm round her waist. She leaned against him, suddenly realising how tired she was. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she let out a huge yawn.

"Come on, let's go and get some food." Elrohir said, gently leading her over to where the rest of the camp was congregated. Estel and Halbarad were sitting together with the other ranger Finrodan, and they exchanged pleased glances as they saw her together with the dark-haired elf: violet and silver eyes shining again. Celeborn and Gandalf too, had been aware of their argument, and were both mildly surprised that the pair had managed to resolve it so quickly. Obviously their connection was a lot closer than they had previously believed it to be…

Gandalf looked over at the silver-haired elf who was presently wearing the pensive expression that suggested he was deep in thought. He spoke quietly, not wishing to bring any others into their conversation.

"I know what you are thinking, my friend. I, too, have foreseen it. Do you fear his choice?" Celeborn's expression cleared, and his eyes met Gandalf's.

"I cannot help but fear it. Whatever he chooses will cause hurt to those around him."

"Only one choice could bring him true happiness."

"Ay, but it is that which would also cause him the greatest hurt."

"That is true. You do not think we were unwise in encouraging their relationship?"

"No, it was inevitable. It was foreseen long ago, for she saw him in Galadriel's mirror when she first came to us. I was unaware of this, but when I noticed what was developing between them, I far-spoke with Galadriel, and she told me what she had seen."

"Then could she not have kept them apart, and avoided this?"

"It is not for any of us to tamper with fate. She did nothing to either encourage Elrohir to come to Lórien, nor discourage it. As fate had it, he did not come till recently when he accompanied Arwen to the Golden Wood."

"What will Elrond think?"

"That is precisely what I have been pondering as the days have passed. He has known all along that his children might take the alternative that they have been offered, to become mortal, but I do not believe that he has ever really considered they actually would, assuming they would take the ship to Valinor with him when the time came. It will be a shock for him, I know that much. But it is ever hard to perceive what Lord Elrond is thinking, or how he will react."

"I was under the impression it was ever that way with elves?" Gandalf said lightly and Celeborn smiled wryly.

"So it is said, I know. But with Elrond, it is even less apparent. And since Celebrian passed, well, he has relied ever more on Arwen, Glorfindel and the twins for support." He paused, and his eyes briefly glazed over as a memory passed through his mind.

"It was this time of year that she parted these shores, was it not?" The wizard asked softly. Celeborn nodded slowly, his eyes clearing.

"Yes. And in a few weeks…"

"The time of his death?"

"His disappearance." Celeborn corrected. "We have not yet given up hope."

"Forgive me, my friend. I spoke without thought."

"It is forgotten." They were silent for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts, before Gandalf tactfully changed the thread of conversation to something lighter.

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The company was merry that night as they sat around the fire, eating, drinking and exchanging stories and songs as they usually did. Elrohir was on watch and as she lay, propped up on her elbows, lulled by the voices of Léanor, Arùmil and Gelion who were presently singing, she let her thoughts wonder.

After some time, Daromir relieved Elrohir and he went over to where she lay, her eyes closed, but her soft humming betraying the fact that she was not asleep. As she opened her eyes, suddenly alert to his presence, she smiled, stifling a yawn as he lay down beside her, taking her in his arms.

"Promise me you will be careful tomorrow?" He asked softly.

"I promise."

"I will be watching for your return…"

"I'll try not to be late!" She said lightly, but he did not laugh, only gently tilted her head so that her eyes met his.

"I mean it. I'm not going to lose you when I've only just found you." She leaned up and kissed him.

"I don't intend on getting lost." He raised an eyebrow and she nodded, suddenly serious. "I promise, Elrohir. I promise." And with that, they lay back, and he sang softly to her until her eyelids dropped, and she fell asleep.
    
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    A/N: Please review and tell me what you think!


	19. Concerning a spy

Disclaimer: I only own the stuff you don't recognise. Everything thing else belongs to Tolkien.

A/N: I know it has been absolutely AGES since I last updated this story, but what with A levels and numerous other things, I have been very busy. I have also had a bit of writer's block on this one, and have been mainly concentrating on my other story 'Exchanges'.

Thanks though all those who have reviewed, and please keep on doing so! The more reviews I get, the more incentive I have to keep writing! :o)

And if any of you are wondering when there is gonna be some smut, well, you will just have to be patient! It will come, but you'll have to be patient!

So please read and review!

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When she awoke the next morning, Galwyn was still entwined in Elrohir's arms. She smiled and moved closer to his warm body, and instinctively, his arms tightened around her. When she looked into his face, she could see that he was still asleep, for his open eyes were blank and expressionless as he dreamed. She watched him for a while, not moving, but she couldn't stop herself from gently running the backs of her fingers down his cheekbone. Immediately his eyes cleared and he smiled as he saw her leaning over him. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head before pulling her close to him.

"I don't think I will let you go today."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because I want you here with me."

"Well, that's a nice thought, but needs must."

"That's true, I suppose." He said with a melodramatic sigh. She laughed and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

"Come, I have to get ready to go." He nodded and they went over to where the rest of the group were breaking their fasts.

When all was ready, and Galwyn had had a final conversation with Celeborn and Gandalf, she stood alone with Elrohir on the edge of the forest. He took her face in both hands and looked deep into her eyes, his expression grave.

"Come back soon."

"I will." He smiled and kissed her gently before letting her go. With a final glance behind her, she transformed into her eagle form, and flew off in the direction of the tower.

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What she saw as she drew closer was enough to chill her blood as it flowed through her veins. The tower itself was tall and thin, but the fortress around it was immense and wide, complete with turrets, walls and battlements. It was fashioned from dark grey stone, and looked impenetrable. There was a large area around the buildings that had been cleared of greenery and here she could see great furnaces had been made, and, judging from the faint sounds of clanging metal she could catch from the air, they were making armour and weapons. There were orcs everywhere and large groups of wild-men interspersed among them. It was hard to estimate, not knowing how many more were inside the buildings, but she guessed there were around two and a half thousand in the forces gathered there. As she flew around the tower she saw that at its very top there was a small balcony, and on this a pale figure stood, surveying the land beneath, before disappearing inside. 

When she had discerned all she could from the air, she flew down to the ground, and into the edge of the trees around the clearing where she could transform without being seen. She rested for a moment in her own form, feeling her energy renewed as she let her mind rest briefly from the concentration. After a few minutes, she gathered her thoughts and put herself into an orc-shape, something that took even more control of thought than usual, for the thought of taking on the foul form was enough to make her stomach turn and her blood run even more chill. Even so, it took her several attempts, and she held herself in the secluded spot for several moments, making sure she could hold the form.

No sooner had she stepped out into the barren fields before the tower, than an orc-band appeared out of the forest nearby her, running towards the grey buildings. She hastily joined the back of the group, running along with them, almost retching at the foul stench of them. She almost coughed, but managed to quell it, pulling her orc-features into a scowl, trying not to look at the body she had created for herself, feeling dirty inside even as she ran on orc legs. She cringed inside as the orcs at the front of the group began to sing, if it could be called that, and the song soon passed to the back, the words repeated endlessly to the rhythm of their pounding feet as the tower grew ever closer.

We'll take it 

_Yes, we will_

_Make it ours_

_Kill! Kill! Kill!_

_Take their lands_

_For our own_

_Flush them out_

_No mercy shown!_

The words of the song chilled her to her very core, but she forced herself to join in, imitating the voices of those around her, feeling her mind repel the words that she was forcing from her mouth. When they reached the tower and walls, the huge gate began to open and Galwyn felt her stomach churning more than ever at the sight of the huge numbers of orcs and evil men, working away at creating monstrous weapons. The rest of the orc band that she had been running with ran past the tower towards one of the buildings, but she knew her business was there. As subtly as she could, she broke away from the group and made her way towards the huge stone tower, moving from group to group to avoid detection and picking up a sword and spear as she went from the huge piles that littered the ground near the various furnaces. As she neared the tower itself, she saw that there were several small groups of orcs around it that were obviously guards. She decided to risk going in while her strength still held. As soon as she approached the entrance to the main tower, the orcs on watch barred the way, crossing their spears over the door.

"What is your business?" The one on the left asked.

"I have a message." She said in her orc-voice, injected more than a little scorn into it, praying that it was believable. The orc looked at her suspiciously.

"From who?"

"From Nablung." She growled back, using the name that the leader of the orc band the group had assailed the previous day had been referred to as. The guards looked surprised, but did not unbar the door.

"What is the password?" The one on the right asked, and she felt her heart beginning to beat double time in her chest. She had only one hope.

"How am I supposed to know the password? I've just come all the way from the Dale with this message. They change these passwords so often, I must be about three behind." She spat out with exasperation, hoping the story would wash. The guards exchanged a glance and some words then unbarred the door. But before she could enter, the one on the right spoke again.

"Next time, make sure you know the password." He then leaned over and whispered it in her ear conspiratorially. She suppressed a shudder at the smell of his foul breath, and concentrated on committing the horrible sounds to her memory, for the words were in the orc language. She nodded and sauntered past them and, once inside with the door slammed shut behind her, stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and forcing herself to hold on to the concentration that was hanging by a thread.

When she had composed herself, she continued down the corridor into which she had just entered, her eyes flicking backwards and forwards, taking in her surroundings and committed her path to memory. There were numerous doorways on either side of the corridor, but she could hear no sound from behind them. Suddenly, she saw a winding staircase to her left, and, having no other plan, took it, ascending as quietly as she could, taking the time to get a better hold on her concentration. The stairs went up and up, with several small landing that obviously led to the other levels of the tower, but something drove her on, past them, until the stairs came to an end and she stepped out onto the top level. She could, indeed, hear voices now, and she followed the sound of them around a corridor, almost freezing in her tracks as she saw a group of guards in front of a pair of huge wooden door. They were lounging around smoking what smelt like pipe-weed, but when they saw her, they stood up and re-assumed their positions. She approached slowly and one of the men, with sallow skin and dark features marred by numerous scars, spoke out.

"Name your business."

"I have a message."

"From who?"

"Nablung." The men exchanged glances and then the one who had spoken nodded shortly, pulling open one of the door and entering into whatever lay beyond them. She heaved an inner sigh of relief at the realisation that obviously Nablung had been more important than she had first suspected, and had, inadvertently, provided her with her ticket into the inner depths of the tower.  She jumped slightly when the man spoke again, this time gesturing towards the door.

"You may go in." She nodded and moved towards the door, but the man spoke again, quietly. "And don't take too long, he is not in the best of moods today." She mumbled a 'thank you', and, with a deep breath, entered into the room beyond, barely able to believe what she was doing, her hand straying to the pocket where the copy of the ring was currently housed. _So far, so good._ She thought, with not just a little foreboding of what lay before her.
    
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    A/N: Please review and tell me what you think!


	20. Author's note

A/N: This is just a note to say that I am going away for a month where I will most likely not be able to get on the net, so unfortunately, there will not be any updates until I get back. But then, it will give me lots of time to write many more chapters!

Thanks!

Mythrandiel :oD


	21. Concerning a nasty surprise

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise is mine and everything else belongs to Tolkien.

A/N: Another chapter for you after that long absence! Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks to all those who have reviewed, and please keep doing so! They give me an extra incentive to write, so if you are enjoying the story, its in your interests to click the button and make my day!

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The room appeared empty, but a small noise to her left drew her gaze, and she saw there was a doorway with another room branching off the one she was presently in. Taking advantage of the moments alone, she cast her eyes about the room. It was sparsely furnished, but the objects that were present were obviously of careful and skilful craftsmanship, particularly the carved marble plinth in the corner. It had a glass dome on the top, and something was contained inside. She was about to move closer to it, when a figure entered the room. The shock at his sudden and shocking appearance almost caused her to drop her concentration, and for a moment the form she was holding flickered, although thankfully, the figure before her had looked down at his desk to pick something up.

Galwyn inhaled slowly and waited several moments before speaking; making sure that she had a firm hold on herself. But the more she looked in utter surprise at that which stood a few feet away, the more appalling it appeared and when she did open her mouth, no sound came out.

For there, standing tall, slender and proud behind the large polished wood desk littered with maps, rolls of parchment, and other things she could not name, stood an elf.

Casting his eyes briefly over the map he was holding in his right hand, the elf absentmindedly looked at her, and she could a glint of something not quite human, or rather, elven, in his eyes, which although ice-blue in colour, seemed to display the red flickering of flames in the pupils. Those piercing eyes were displayed in a face so perfect in its beauty that for a moment Galwyn wondered if a spell had been cast on her. But what was more shocking, was that his face seemed familiar somehow, the facial shape somehow familiar to that of Elrohir and Elladan's… The elf's skin was almost translucent in its paleness and flawless in complexion. His hair hung smooth and shining to the centre of his back and was a strange colour somewhere between blonde and silver, so that as he moved, it too flickered between the different shades. It took her several moments of silence to notice that the look in the elf's eyes had quickly become one of irritation and she spoke hurriedly, praying her concentration would cover up her sudden nervousness.

"I…err…have a message for you, Sir. From Nablung." The elf nodded, his expression cold and unchanged.

"So Lasdrun said. Well, get on with it then! I do not have all day to waste."

"The raid was highly successful, and based on that, Nablung decided to extend the journey and press on further into the Dale." She lied, hoping she had remembered all that the orcs had been discussing about their expedition. But the elf seemed satisfied with her answer and sat down, steepling his fingers underneath his chin, a small smile dancing across his lips.

"Excellent news. Before long, we shall have all we need…" He said absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair.

Galwyn stood still, watching him, rapidly wondering how she could discern some more information. Suddenly, the elf's eyes refocused on her, and a deeper expression of annoyance flashed over his face. "Why are you still here? Leave!"

"Yes, Sir, but Nablung wished to know how long he can continue before he is needed back. That is to say, he is awaiting your reply of when you plan to carry out…" She tailed off, trying not to sound unsure, but rather in awe of the being before her.

"Carry out the attack? I should say a week. That gives him time to take another few villages. And then…" He paused to smile thoughtfully, apparently to himself, "And then Mirkwood had better be ready." The horror of his words shook her to her very core and she was not able to suppress the shudder that ran through her. The elf was looking at her rather strangely, and she took the opportunity to bow and turn to leave. As she did so, her gaze fell on the glass dome of the marble plinth. From this angle she could see its contents, and, just when she did not think she could be any more shocked, she was. For there, lying in a small, open wooden box was the counterpart of that which was currently housed in her pocket. She had found Vilya.

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Elrond was deeply frustrated. It had been many days since he had awoken, and even though he was well aware that he was not yet strong enough to leave his room, the knowledge did nothing to quell the impotence he felt. When Glorfindel came to his room later that day, he found the dark-haired elf sitting up, listlessly turning the pages of a book that he did not appear to be reading.

"How are you feeling today?" He asked, trying to make his voice sound as cheerful as possible. Elrond did not look up, but sighed, closed the book quietly and dropped it on the bed covers.

"A little stronger, I suppose." He said finally, and the blonde walked over to his bedside and pulled a chair over to sit beside him. He gently took Elrond's face between his hands and his green eyes searched the grey ones in the face before him. After what felt like a long time, he released his gentle hold and dropped his penetrating gaze. Standing up, he walked away from the bed towards the window, leaning on the ledge with both hands.

"Elrond, there is nothing you can do in this state, it is folly to feel as you do." He said quietly. The Lord of Imladris allowed a small, sad smile to flicker across his face at the depth of his friend's perception.

"I can never hide things from you, can I, Glorfindel?"

"Maybe you could if you were a little better at actually hiding them." He replied with a wry laugh, before pausing, then continuing once more in his solemn tone. "I am serious, my friend. You are not doing yourself or your state of health any good by lying there and wishing you could do something."

"But what else can I do? Do not tell me you could forget if you were in the position I am in? You know as well as I do the danger I am in. If Vilya is destroyed…"

"Do not speak of 'ifs', Elrond. I am not asking you to forget, but to accept. Everything that can be done is being done…" Glorfindel interrupted, only to be interrupted in turn by his Lord.

"But not by me! I just wish I could do something, that is all…" His voice tailed off, and his gaze moved to where his greatest friend now stood before him, his green eyes shining with love and concern. Glorfindel retook his seat by the bed, and tenderly clasped Elrond's hand.

"I know, and you will, just as soon as you are better. It will not be long now. You must just trust in those who are helping you." A brief smile graced the dark elf's face and he chuckled softly, eliciting a puzzled look from his friend.

"Now I know how my patients must feel." He stopped suddenly, and looked over towards the window. "Can you do one thing for me though, Glory?"

"Anything."

"Help me over to the window? It would do me much good to see the forests again." Glorfindel considered for a moment, then nodded and smiled.

"Of course." Smiling, Elrond pushed the covers down, and slowly swung his legs over the side, revelling in the fact they did not feel half as weak as they had done when he had tried before. He was wearing loose trousers of blue silk that whispered coolly against his skin, and nothing else, for his whole lower torso was still encompassed by a crisp white linen bandage. His hair, unbraided, but shining from much careful brushing by Glorfindel, hung poker-straight and loose to the middle of his back, its abnormally dark hue contrasting with the paleness of his skin and the dark blonde of the other elf's hair as he gently helped him to his feet, one arm supporting him and guiding him across to the window seat. As Elrond settled himself more comfortably on the cushions, Glorfindel pushed the windows wide open so the sunlight and fresh air streamed into the stuffy room. Then he made himself comfortable next his lord, and they sat in companionable silence, trying to ignore that which was eating away at both of their hearts. 

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After she had returned to the camp that night, the first thing Galwyn had done after speaking for some time, and in great detail, with Gandalf and Celeborn was to go the stream, and follow it until it widened out into a small pool. She needed desperately to scrub her body clean of the horrible thing that it had been turned into. It was as if she could feel the remnants of the disgusting orc form still on her, and she shuddered as she remembered all she had seen. She had been almost glad to hear that Elrohir was on a patrol in the surrounding woods because she was not sure she could face him while she felt so dirty.

Hastily divulging herself of her clothes, she walked slowly down to the edge of the bank, looked into the water to gauge its depth, and, judging it easily deep enough, dived in smoothly, barely causing a ripple as she slid under the surface. The icy touch of the water was enough to leave her gasping for breath as she broke the surface of the pool, flinging her hair out of face, but she revelled in it, feeling it revitalising her and helping to return her to her own frame of mind, erasing the horrors of her day.

Her body gradually began to adjust to the temperature of the water and ceased its shivering as she swam round and round the pool.

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When Elrohir returned with the patrol, he learnt that she had returned, and, after he had found out that she had gone for a walk, resolved to find out what had happened before he went after her.

He sought out his grandfather, who was sitting, apparently lost in thought, by the stream. The younger elf went and sat next to him, not speaking, but knowing his presence had been noted, although the silver haired elf's eyes had remained closed, and waited for Celeborn to come to the end of his train of thought. After several minutes had passed, he opened his eyes and turned to his grandson, a neutral expression on his face.

"You wish to speak to me about something, Elrohir? Or do you merely seek a place for pensiveness as I have done?"

"I wish to know what it was that Galwyn found out today. Has she found the whereabouts of the ring?"

"Indeed she has."

"Then who has it? And where is it? When can we get it?"

"Slowly, Elrohir! One question at a time! To answer them in order, I will say that we do not know who it is that is in charge at Dol Guldur, except that it is an elf."

"An elf?" He exclaimed in shock. "But why would an elf be…"

"Corruption," Celeborn interrupted, "can appear anywhere. A weak, or weakened, mind can be easily turned." Elrohir nodded slowly, but did not reply, and Celeborn continued. "In answer to your other questions, the ring is in the tower, in the possession of this mysterious and, as yet, nameless elf. Tomorrow night, Galwyn will go and, hopefully, retrieve Vilya, which she will then bring here. She does not believe it will be a difficult task, as she plans to enter and leave through the window, which will obviously not be guarded. But, from what she has told us, it also transpires that there is an attack planned on Mirkwood in about a week's time. Gandalf has already sent word to Thranduil and Legolas, which they should receive today, and no doubt they will be more than ready for it, but Galwyn has suggested that she return to the tower after retrieving the ring, and try to discover more about the plans for this attack. Apparently there are all manners of maps and the like which may be of great use to us."

"Have you spoken with Daromir and Lysandil?"

"Yes, we have. Yesterday evening. They were half expecting it, and assured us that with both their father and Legolas in charge, their forces would be under the best command possible."

"And she will do all of this tomorrow night?"

"Yes, we cannot afford to waste any time. And besides, if they do find out that the ring has been exchanged tomorrow, it may not be safe for her to return."

"How on earth did she manage to find all of this out?" Elrohir asked incredulously.

"By taking on an orc form, and claiming to be a messenger for the leader of the group we fought and killed. She remembered the name of this orc, Nablung, I think it was, and used it to her advantage. In this way, she gained an audience with the master of operations in Dol Guldur…"

"This elf?"

"Yes, and in his study, no less. That is where she saw the ring."

"I see. And did she describe him?"

"Ethereally fair of face, pale skinned and light haired."

"That could be any Lórien or Mirkwood elf, they are all like that." Elrohir said with some disappointment.

"Indeed. She also said that there seemed to be flames burning in the pupils of his eyes, a sure sign of corruption by the darkest of all the dark powers."

"Then we are not dealing with a mere orc and human rebellion…"

"Indeed not."

Elrohir went silent for several moments as he digested the information and it was Celeborn who spoke first.

"And how are you coping, Elrohir? Is it becoming any easier?" The younger elf sighed, and absentmindedly placed a hand over his heart.

"I am not sure…I think it may be becoming a little easier, but it is hard to tell, for right now, it still pains us greatly." Celeborn smiled wryly at his choice of words. Each twin knew implicitly what the other was feeling, for he was feeling it too. Their bond was strong, everyone knew it, and he knew that a parting, if it came, would cause more pain than either could imagine…

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	22. Concerning a dream

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise is mine and everything else belongs to Tolkien.

A/N: Another chapter up. Hope you all enjoy it! Please review and let me know if you do!

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After he had left his grandfather, Elrohir followed the direction Galwyn had gone in, moving quietly through the trees and undergrowth, taking the same path she had done. Suddenly, from some distance away he spied the pool currently bathed in the light of the retreating sun, turning the surface of the water a mixture of pinks, purples, yellows and oranges. He could see her clothes on the bank, but there did not appear to be any sign of her. He looked around the pool anxiously, his eyes searching for some sign of her whereabouts, when she suddenly broke the surface of the pool, flinging her head back to divulge her face of her hair, which swung back in an ebony halo, sending crystal drops of water flying some distance. She paused for breath, standing up in the waist deep waters at the edge of the pool, oblivious to his presence, before disappearing once more below the water.

Elrohir hastily turned away, his breathing slightly quicker than usual, and his face flushed. Stoic by nature, as most elves were, he was able to control his feelings, but he was not sure that he would be able to control himself if presented with the vision of her nakedness. While himself not innocent to the many ways of loving someone, he knew that she was, and that he had to wait until she was ready to share her body with him. Indeed, he _wanted_ to wait until she was ready, for then the moment would be as special and perfect as he hoped. The waiting was not a problem… _As long as I am not presented with sights such as that which make me want nothing more than show her exactly how I feel and do things I know would make her blush…_ he thought, hurriedly retreating to a safe distance to wait for her, trying not to think about the rivulets of water running down the smooth honeyed skin…

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It was some time before he heard the splashing in the water cease and, after a brief pause when he presumed she was putting her clothes back on, he heard movement in the trees behind where he was sitting, facing away from the pool. He stood up, and, silently as possible, made his way up behind her. He was almost there when she suddenly spun round and he found a knife at his throat.

When she saw who it was that had been following her, Galwyn quickly removed the knife from his neck, replaced it in the sheath that hung from her belt, and allowed herself to be taken in his arms.

"Be calm, Galwyn. It is only I."

As he embraced her, Elrohir could feel how tense her body was under his hands and he stepped back, looking deep into her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Elrohir. I didn't know it was you following me, my senses don't seem to be as sharp as they usually are…" She said quietly and he lifted an eyebrow in response.

"That is because you are obviously exhausted, are you not?" He said, even as she stifled a yawn. He smiled. "Well, I think it is best if we return now, you need some food and rest." He gently reached out and smoothed the wet hair from her face before taking her hand. They walked back to the camp in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

As soon as she had eaten something, Elrohir insisted she retire, even though the stars had only just shown themselves. But she did not protest, for she was, indeed, finding it hard to keep her eyes open. As with every night when he was not on watch, he lay with her under her blanket, her head on his shoulder, his cheek resting on her head, and their bodies firmly encased within the other's arms. She fell asleep almost immediately, but he lay awake for some time, just watching her face and revelling in being close to her. The day had passed so slowly for him, and his mind had been so preoccupied with awful thoughts of what might befall her, that he had, for a while, forgotten the ache in his chest that was the constant reminder that he was without his twin. But she had returned to him, and he trusted her not to do anything foolish when she was away. He watched her for a while longer before he, too, succumbed to sleep.

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She was lying in a clearing, the same one Elrohir had taken her to on the day of the council; only it was even more beautiful than she remembered, and the petals that had fallen had covered her like a blanket. The air smelt sweetly of the blossom on the trees and the sun was warm on her skin. She picked up a handful of the petals and threw it in the air, her laughter as she watched it fall around her like snow seeming loud in the clearing. Suddenly she heard a movement, and turning, she saw a figure enter the clearing. Standing before her was Elrohir, smiling. He said nothing, only beckoned for her to come with him. She did not hesitate and stood up immediately, and felt the blanket of petals fall off of her in one smooth movement. She ran towards him and he held his arms out to her, but just as she was about to reach him, he ran out of her reach, laughing in his game. She laughed too, and ran towards him again, only to have him dance out of her reach once more. He guided her through the trees, calling to her and hiding, always out of her reach. She began to tire, but he seemed so close, and she wanted to touch him, to hold him so very much…

Elrohir awoke with a distinct feeling that something was wrong. There was no warm body in his arms, and as he sat up, he saw the empty space where Galwyn should have been. Immediately alert, he looked around the camp for signs of movement, but all that he could see were Finrodan and Arùmil, who were on watch duty. Not wishing to cause any alarm, he moved through the shadows into the treeline, keeping as low as he could to avoid detection. He knew she must have gone this way, or they would have seen her, but where, or why, she had gone, he had no idea. His eyes scanning the ground, he searched for some clue as to which direction she might have gone in…

_Their game had taken them far into the trees and Galwyn could feel her legs beginning to grow more and more tired, but the game was so tantalising. He danced so close to her, now letting her catch him briefly, and pulling her along with him, before moving out of her reach once more, still smiling and beautiful, illuminated by the golden sunlight. He called her name again and again, beckoning to her, and still she followed, smiling as she stumbled after him. He began to sing, a song whose tune she knew, but whose words she did not remember, and she hummed along with him…_

He was starting to grow desperate now. There was nothing to show where she might have gone, and he was just moving deeper and deeper into the trees, running this way and that, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, his ears straining to hear any sounds. Suddenly, and so soft he thought at first it was just the breeze that ran through the trees, he heard something. He stopped, and listened, and it came again: first a giggle, and then…humming? He began to run in the direction it came from…

_The game had stopped now, for they had reached a stream, a stream that looked very much like the one she had followed that afternoon, although of course that was silly, because she was in Rivendell, wasn't she? Elrohir jumped over it, and she laughed as the water splashed her dress, which was the same one she had worn the night when they had first kissed. He beckoned to her to jump, but she shook her head, laughing, afraid of falling in and getting wet. Elrohir frowned and called her name, still gesturing for her to follow him, but the water by her feet was beginning to look darker and more ferocious, and the gap seemed to be growing. He called to her, and she shook her head, afraid of the waters boiling and foaming at her feet. Elrohir began to grow more and more angry, and the more that she looked at him, the more it seemed his hair was not brown, but a shade somewhere between blonde and silver, and his eyes were looking more and more blue, although there was a strange, red flicker in them. He reached out to her, his face suddenly that of the elf from the tower. She screamed in fear as hideous wings sprung from his shoulders and he flew to her, trying to drag her over the edge and into the waters below…_

When he heard the scream, Elrohir's blood turned cold. It was her, he knew, and he ran even faster, though his muscles ached in protest. The sounds had taken him in a direction roughly parallel to the stream, and he knew that there were rapids ahead. He prayed that she had not fallen, for he knew there was no chance of surviving them. Suddenly he saw her, standing on the river bank, apparently locked in a fight with something invisible, for he could see nothing, although it appeared that she was being pulled closer and closer to the edge, and he could hear her crying out repeatedly. As he grew nearer, he could see her eyes were closed, not tightly squeezed shut from fear, but closed as though she was sleeping, though the rest of her features were contorted with panic. When he reached her, she fought him furiously, crying out, and he struggled to keep a hold on her, her strength seemingly increased by her fear. He called her name again and again, willing her to wake up, to respond, but still she struggled, tears streaming from under her closed eyelids…

_As she fought the demon before her, she felt another one grab hold of her from behind, pushing her towards the water's edge as the other one pulled her, and she could hear herself screaming, although it was almost drowned out by the churning of the water, and something else…she could hear a voice calling her name, although it sounded as though it was coming from very far away. The demons seemed to hear it too, and she could feel herself overpowering the one before her, but the one behind her seemed to have a firm hold, though it did not feel as though it was pushing her any more. The voice was getting louder, and it seemed like the sunlight was becoming darker, and the warmth was fading. She ceased her struggles, and slumped, abandoning herself to the cold and darkness that was beginning to envelope her…_

When she stopped struggling, Elrohir relaxed his hold on her slightly, feeling her shaking and trembling as he held her.

"Wake up! Galwyn! Listen to me! Hear my voice! Wake up!" He cried, feeling his throat growing hoarse. Suddenly her eyes opened, and her eyes focussed on his face.

"Elrohir? Is that really you?"

"Yes, it is me. Peace. It was just a dream." 

"I was following you… it was a… game. But then, you turned into him and he tried to pull me in…he tried to…he tried…" 

"I am here now, and nothing and no one can hurt you." She continued to cry and buried her face in his tunic, her body shaking with each sob. He wrapped his arms round her gently, and held her as he waited for the sobs to subside. When they did so, he realised that she was shivering, and looking down, he saw that she was wearing only her short tunic, and her bare legs and arms were dimpled and red from the cold breeze. He picked her up and cradled her against his chest as he made his way back to the camp. 

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A/N: Please review!


	23. Concerning an explanation

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise is mine and everything else belongs to Tolkien.

A/N: Here is the next instalment. Sorry it took so long coming, but I have a lot on my plate at the moment, namely A levels!

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The next day, when Galwyn was still asleep Elrohir once more sought out Celeborn, who was sitting alone beneath the trees, sharpening one of his knives. He looked up as Elrohir approached and addressed him immediately.

"Gandalf saw you come back last night. What happened?" With a sigh, the younger elf explained all that had occurred the previous night, and Celeborn listened intently, occasionally asking a question. When Elrohir had finished, he nodded slowly.

"Galadriel warned me of this, but we had not seen it for centuries until now…not since the Great War…"

"Seen what? What is it?" Celeborn turned to Elrohir with a grave look on his face.

"Wherever dark powers go, dark things follow them… dark things that do not always manifest themselves in a solid, physical form. Orcs and evil men we can fight against, but these we cannot."

"But what are they?"

"They are called night-ghasts, Elrohir: fearful, evil, terrible things that come from the fearful, evil and terrible dark powers that still remain. They can exist both in the dream world of mortals, and the real world. They prey on sleepers, entering their dreams and leading them away from safety towards danger. They kill, not for sustenance, for they need none, but for the fact that from each victim, a new night-ghast is born. I did not think that it would happen here, but now we know, we must be more careful. I will make some sleeping draughts, for a dreamless slumber is the only thing that can lock them out."

"But she will be alright?"

"Yes, because of you. If you had not gone after her and reached her in time, then…" He turned away, "I do not like to think what may have happened."

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A knock at his study door caused Thranduil to jump slightly, for he had been somewhat engrossed in the letter he was writing. He replaced his quill in the inkpot and called out permission for the visitor to enter. He was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Legolas, and stood up, coming round to greet him with the customary kiss on both cheeks.

"Good morning, Legolas." He said, gesturing for him to come and sit with him on the window seat.

"Good morning, father." The younger elf said with a smile, his flaxen hair gleaming in the morning light as he took his seat, reclining against the soft cushions and basking in the warm rays of sunlight.

"Was there something you needed to…?" Thranduil was interrupted in his sentence by a sudden tap at the window behind them, and both turned to see an eagle waiting patiently on the window ledge with a piece of parchment attached to its leg. Legolas stood up, opened the window to allow the small eagle in, and removed the roll of paper. The bird bowed its head in recognition, then flew away again through the open window. The prince handed the letter to his father with a curious expression on his face.

"It must be from Gandalf."

"Yes," replied Thranduil, "it bears his seal." He opened the letter and began to read it out loud. Together, prince and king learnt all that had been discovered the previous day, and when he had finished reading it, Thranduil laid it down on his knee and sighed. "Well, it seems that it is as we feared, Legolas. Are the troupes ready?" At this, his son smiled wryly.

"That is what I was coming to tell you this morning. They are ready for your inspection. We can march on your orders." Thranduil smiled tenderly at his eldest son, and reached out a hand to place on his shoulder.

"I knew I could trust you to do a good job, my son. Well done." Legolas smiled back, the pride obvious in his shining blue eyes.

"But what do you propose to do? Wait for them to come to us? Ambush them in the forests? Pre-empt the attack with one of our own on their soil…?" Thranduil raised an eyebrow and held up a hand to stop the barrage of questions.

"Easy, Legolas! Gandalf tells us they need two days, including today, to retrieve Vilya and find out some more information. Until then, we cannot make a final decision. That would still leave us four days or so. My immediate impression is that an ambush would not be the best course, for it seems there are a large number of them, not so large that it would endanger us, but it would be hard to contain large numbers on the west side of the forest, but perhaps if they took the eastern border…" He was once again startled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. He sighed and called out, "Enter!", his frown quickly melting into a smile as he saw Glorfindel standing in the doorway.

"My Lord, forgive the intrusion, but I was outside in the gardens, and saw the eagle deliver the letter. I was just wondering if there was any news from Gandalf?" He asked, his green eyes curious.

"Of course, Glorfindel. I was just thinking of sending for you. Come." He gestured for the other elf to join them, and he did so, seating himself on the other side of Thranduil, who was sitting in the middle. Legolas shot him a smile in greeting and he quickly smiled back, before turning his attention to the letter handed to him.

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It felt to Galwyn, when she woke up that morning, that she was suffering from the biggest headache she had ever experienced in her whole life. There was a pounding throb in her temples that felt as though there was an army trying to break free. She groaned as she sat up, holding her head between both hands and immediately became aware that Gandalf was sitting next to her, holding out a small beaker of a bluish liquid.

"Celeborn told me you might wish to drink this." She looked at him quizzically and he smiled. "It will help with the headache." She smiled ruefully and took the beaker, draining it in one go and grimacing at the bitter taste.

"What happened last night, Gandalf?" He looked at her with some surprise.

"You do not remember?"

"I remember a little, but it is all confused. I remember waking up and being very cold…Elrohir was there and I was crying. There was water too…but that is about it."

"It is a very good thing that Elrohir was there, Galwyn, for he undoubtedly saved your life."

"I was in danger?"

"Yes, of the gravest type." He began to repeat what Celeborn had told Elrohir, and she listened silently as he did so, nodding to herself as small snippets of memory came back to her. When he had finished, she remained quiet for several moments before speaking.

"Is Elrohir alright?" Gandalf smiled and nodded.

"A little tired, perhaps. But no worse for wear." She nodded slowly then turned to look at him.

"Thank you for the draught, Gandalf. I feel much better now." He smiled and stood up to leave.

"Think nothing of it." He turned to go, then stopped and looked back, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I believe you will find him, should you seek him, by the stream." Galwyn smiled and raised an eyebrow and Gandalf chuckled before walking away.

Alone once more, she hastily pulled some more clothes on and combed the tangles from her hair, deftly pulling it into one long braid that hung down her back like a black, shiny rope. She did not feel particularly like eating, for, although the headache had been dramatically reduced, it had left behind a slight nauseous feeling in her stomach, and the thought of food did not really appeal to her at that moment.

She wandered slowly in the direction of the stream and, after a few moments, was able to see Elrohir's form through the trees. She could tell by the sounds that he was washing some clothes, but as she watched, he ceased his actions and sighed, leaning back on his heels and running a tired hand through his hair. She began to walk towards him and he turned at the sound, his face immediately breaking into a smile. He stood up and placed the wet clothes on the bank, drying his hands on the bottom of his tunic before holding his arms out to her. She virtually fell into them, flinging her own arms around him tightly, and burying her face in his shoulder. After a moment, her hands came round and gently took his face between them, drawing him into a long, passionate kiss that left them both pale and gasping for breath, and rather surprised as well.

"Well… I haven't been greeted like that before…" Elrohir managed to get out after a moment.

"I'm not really sure what came over me." She replied sheepishly, before her expression turned rather more serious. "What I really want to do is to thank you… for saving my life. If you hadn't been there…"

"I have been thanking Elbereth every minute since then that I did follow you last night. If I had lost you, I don't know what I would have done…" He tailed off as she raised a finger and gently touched it to his lips.

"Shhh…don't say it. Let us not speak of 'ifs'. Everything is alright now."

"Yes, you are right." He said, and sighed, pulling her into her arms and gently stroking her back. She laid her head against his shoulder and inhaled the sweet scent of his hair that was moving across her face in the breeze. Neither moved for some time, just revelling in being together.

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Night came sooner than anyone had wanted, knowing what it was bringing, and there was a tenseness in the air that was almost tangible.  Galwyn had spent the better part of the day in the company of Elrohir, attempting to forget what she knew what was coming. But the inevitable happened, and she stood side by side with the dark-haired elf as they watched the sun sink from the sky. Dusk came and went, and the stars began to grow more and more bright in the darkening sky. The rest of the group began to light the fires, and Celeborn with a look to Gandalf, approached the couple as they stood some distance away from the others. They drew apart as they heard him approach, and he stopped in front of them, a neutral expression on his face.

"It is time." They nodded and he left them alone once more. Elrohir turned to her and sighed.

"Be careful."

"I will be careful."

"Promise you'll come back."

"I promise." With that he smiled gently and pulled her closer for a last, sweet kiss before she walked away and disappeared into the night.

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A/N: The more reviews, the more inspired I am to update quickly!


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